


Solace

by MotherOfDragons3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King Jon Snow, Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Targaryen Restoration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfDragons3/pseuds/MotherOfDragons3
Summary: The journey from Dragonstone onward towards the Great War brought two lovers together to find solace in one another's arms. Starting from the day after the end of season 7 and into a fix it of what season 8 should have been and beyond. I'm not the best with descriptions so please just read :)
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 198
Kudos: 341





	1. Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> So I know this might have been done to death, but these ideas have been on my mind for quite a while. Especially with so much going on in the fandom and throughout the world, I thought we could have some brief moments of happiness. Always open to ideas and whatever you may want to see.

Tangled limbs and the feeling of bed furs against her skin is how she woke. The gentle waves of the ocean rocked against her flagship as sunlight was barely filtering through the windows. Only a sliver of daylight signaled that their night was over and the day was creeping up to bring them back to their duties and responsibilities. Their legs were intertwined with one another as the former King in the North slept soundly on his back. Daenerys shifted slowly to her side as to not wake the sleeping man beside her. She had never seen him look so peaceful and at ease, a welcoming contrast to his usual demeanor. His dark brown curls hung loose, having been freed from their constraint by her own hands hours before. His face was completely relaxed, all tension gone from his features. In sleep he looked like the young man he was, only nine moons older than herself.

Daenerys took this moment of stillness between them to really look at the man who had completely captivated her and changed her entire direction in life. She took time to memorize the scars of his face, drifting down to look at the scars covering his chest and stomach. She had seen these scars only once before their evening together, after the disastrous mission beyond the wall had failed. She had almost lost him then, and the very thought of never seeing his face again had woken feelings in her that she didn’t even realize she was capable of anymore. And now everything was changed. It had been a welcomed surprise when Jon Snow had showed up at her cabin door, and she never wanted this feeling to end.

Slowly she traced her fingers down his scarred chest before sliding her body down his to gingerly kiss each and every scar. Ser Davos had been right, and these markings were not just some figure of speech as she had been told.

“If you keep doing that, we won’t be leaving this bed.” Jon’s northern accent was even stronger in the mornings, his voice heavy as he brushed the sleep from his eyes.

Dany looked up at him, his dark grey eyes meeting her gaze. In the low light of dawn, they were so dark they almost appeared black. She smiled brightly at him, and her heart nearly skipped a beat when it was met with a wide smile on his face. Jon Snow was not a man who smiled much, but seeing how genuinely happy he looked she vowed that would be something that she would change.

He pulled her back up close to him and she gladly snuggled into his embrace. He brushed her silver gold hair away from her face before bringing her up for a kiss. The kiss was gentle and full of sweetness; different than the frenzied passionate ones they’d experienced just hours before. She felt such a feeling of belonging in his arms, one she had never felt with anyone before. It was if they were simply destined for one another.

It was his turn now to gaze at the woman in his arms. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, unable to believe that this was real. That what they had shared together was real. That these uncontrollable feelings threatening to burst forth from his chest were real. He had thought he had known love once, but this feeling was foreign and exhilarating at the same time. Shame crossed his mind as he realized how brazenly he had acted. Catelyn Stark had done well to teach him his place as a bastard, and how wanton they could be. And here had had proven her right by openly knocking on the Queen’s door, selfishly wanting to possess everything about her. He had defiled the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and the world’s most beautiful woman with his bastardly taint. No matter how much he loved the woman in his arms.

Daenerys saw the peace in his face slowly fade and her stomach dropped. Was he ashamed of what had happened between now that a new day was upon them? Was she wrong, and these feelings did not reciprocate beyond lustful intention?

“No one has to know, Lord Snow. This ship is filled with both of our closest advisors and Unsullied and Dothraki that are exceedingly loyal to me. You need not worry about your Northern honor.” She tried to put her Queenly mask back on, feeling the steel in her voice as she moved away from his embrace to sit up and away from him.

Knowing that she must have seen the struggle on his face, he immediately sat up next to her and began to rub her back. “Dany, it’s not like that at all. I promise. It’s just…” his voice wavered with emotion.

She turned to look at him, shocked to find tears threatening to spill over.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m a bastard, with no family name. Lady Stark always made sure that I knew exactly what I was. Bastards in Westeros are nothing but a shame to their family, filled with lustful desire and weakness. It’s why I joined the Nights Watch. To find some place to make my own way, to have my own honor. To prove that I wasn’t what I’d been told I was. I’ve never done anything like I did last night, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never wanted anything more, and that is selfish. You are trueborn, a Targaryen. Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You don’t deserve to ruin yourself on my account.” Jon couldn’t look at her as he finished speaking, his eyes cast down towards the bed furs.

Dany’s heart stung at his words. She had only known him for a few moons but had seen nothing but an honorable man, who would do anything to ensure the safety and survival of his people and those he loved. He had even risked his life coming to meet with her, knowing full well the bad blood between both of their houses. He had even tried to avenge her fallen son, Viserion and almost lost his own life in the process. He had seen her for who she truly was. She didn’t care about the wrong opinion of a woman long dead. Though she knew just how hard it was to escape the trauma of an unhappy childhood. She still wore riding breeches under all of her dresses, in case she needed to run. That is what she had been doing since she was born, running.

She cradled his face in both of her hands, bringing Jon closer to her. “You are more than enough. I don’t want you to ever doubt that in my presence. I don’t care about the nature of your birth or what titles you may or may not have. I am truly sorry for the childhood you endured, but please do not let a dead woman steal your happiness. This is a shit world and we have to take the joy where we can. Especially as Queen, and as a King.” He looked up at her in confusion, seeing nothing but love in her violet eyes. 

Dany dropped her hands from his face, grabbing both of his hands in hers. “Do you know how fortunate we are to have found each other? Against all the odds, against all the history between our families. So no, I do not accept your offer of bending the knee. If you are so worried about what the people may think of you because the circumstance of your birth, then you will remain King in the North. After all, what is a better match but for a Queen than a King? I swore it to you on this same boat moons ago and I will swear it to you again. It is going to be you and I. Together.”

Jon swept her up in his arms, trying his best to erase all doubt of the past with a fiery kiss as she wrapped her arms around him. For the first time in his life he felt wanted, and loved. And for the first time in years, he felt hope.


	2. Fear

Jon enjoyed feeling the weight of her body pressed against his. This was their first time bathing together, and the tub was just big enough for both of them to fit snugly against each other. Never had something felt as right as having her in his arms. He had once been so sure in himself, and in his purpose. The Nights Watch had been his calling, and that is where he should have found his home. He had been lost when he was awoken back to life, unsure of what he was meant to do or where he truly belonged. But now, more than ever, had Maester Aemon’s words truly meant something to him. He would sacrifice anything, if needed, for the love of the woman resting against his chest. 

His hands drifted further in the water, wrapping his arms against her stomach. And Gods be willing, both the old and the new, he would get to feel the weight of a newborn son or daughter in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to prove Dany wrong, to show her that the witch who cursed her was full of empty words and threats. He was not a religious man, but prayed to anyone that would listen that his seed would take root and hold. His brooding turned darker, wondering if that would even come to pass with what they were up against. Was he doing nothing but drawing her to her death? To all of their deaths? Perhaps the happiness they had found on this boat would be the only piece they would ever know.

Daenerys relaxed further into his embrace, savoring the warmth of the steaming bath water and the feel of his arms wrapped around her body. These past few days had bestowed upon her a happiness and calm that she had never felt before in her life. It was if time had stopped around them and they could just be Jon and Dany, and not the King of the North and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. They were just two young people in love, relishing every stolen kiss during the day and discovering every inch of the others body during the nights.

Since the circumstances of life had forced her to womanhood so soon from girlhood upon the Dothraki sea, Daenerys had never been without some responsibility of Queendom. On this boat, in Jon’s arms, she could just be herself. Suddenly she felt him tense up against her, his arms pulling her closer to his scarred chest. She frowned, bringing her hands up to rest upon his own.

“Where is your mind taking you?” Her voice was soft, breaking the stillness between them.

Jon sighed deeply, not wanting to trouble her with his darkness. It had followed him like a shadow since his resurrection, always there in the corner ready to consume him if only he allowed it. He had even once, before battle, made his sister swear that they wouldn’t attempt to bring him back. Now the thought of dying and never seeing her face again stilled his heart.

“I love you Daenerys…but I cannot help but fear that I am leading you to both of our deaths. I don’t know if I have the strength to do that to you. Just the thought of knowing that one or both of us could fall in battle, makes me feel ill. It fills me with a rage, like when Viserion fell and the Night King turned his sights on you. I wanted nothing more but to end him then and there instead of seeing you in danger.”

She pulled from his arms, maneuvering her body around in the tub to face him. He pulled his knees up so that she could rest against the other rounded edge of the tub as they met face to face. Her silver hair was loose in waves around her face and over her shoulders, covering her chest. The reflection from the flames in the braziers created a halo of light around her, making her look like a Goddess of fire.

“I will not be a Queen who sits idly by while my subjects fight my battles for me. What kind of Queen would be if I was not willing to risk my life for those of my people? Yes, you have shown me the true enemy and I am glad to be joining you in this fight. We cannot let the Night King win, for all of humanity will end with us. I will fight with you no matter the cost, if that is what we must do, to ensure that he will not enslave the world in death.”

He looked deeply into her violet eyes, knowing that she was not the type of woman to sit by and do nothing. It is one of the things he loves most about her. “I understand that, Dany. I would not ask you to stand aside during the battle. I am just afraid.” His voice cracked at the last statement, as this was the first time he spoke aloud of his fear. Putting it into words, sharing that fear with someone else, was not something he was accustomed to do. He had never been the best of communicators, especially with women. And now here was a Queen who wanted nothing more than to share his burdens and his life with him.

“It is alright to be afraid. We would not be human without fear. We would not be human without love either. And I love you too, King Snow.” She smiled brightly at him, trying her best to lighten the somber mood surrounding them. “Yes, we may die but first I plan to enjoy every single moment I can with you. So if that is the fate that we must meet together, at least we have known this is what true happiness feels like. And no one, not even death himself, can take that from us.”

In an instant she climbed into his lap carefully, kissing him as deeply as she ever had before. His lips met her frenzied kisses with wild abandon, wrapping his arms around her body to draw her closer to him. She felt the length of him harden against her inner thighs as she moved her hips against his manhood. “Take me to bed Jon Snow.”

He might not know much, but he knew he didn’t have to be told twice.


	3. Dadvos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the authors note at the end! Thank you in advance :)

The night sky was clear as far as the eye could see, alight with the full moon and the glittering of millions of stars. It was a still and quiet evening, the ocean the only sound constant during this late hour of the wolf. Daenerys enjoyed these peaceful moments alone, looking out into the vastness of the sea while the rest of the flagship occupants slept soundly in their beds. Of course she was never truly alone, but her Unsullied guards for the evening kept a very respectful distance to give her the allusion of privacy. 

She thought back to when she had been a small slip of a girl, wanting nothing more but to be a sailor. The ocean had always made her feel free. She had only shared these thoughts once with Viserys, and he had reacted so violently. He had pulled her hair and twisted it so hard that she felt it would be ripped from her head. She never mentioned it again to him, and had learned to keep most of her feelings to herself.

She had been unable to sleep, her nerves and anxiety getting the best of her in a way they had not in years. Their days of travel so far had consisted of council meetings, war meetings, plans for their arrival to White Harbor and the subsequent march onward to Winterfell. Jon had been doing his best to teach her Northern customs and traditions, while also making sure she didn’t expect too much from the North at first. Both Jon and Jorah had warned her of the welcome she would be expecting, and that it would be nothing like what she had experienced in Essos. Would she always be an outsider in her own country? Daenerys was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the gentle footsteps behind her.

“Can’t sleep your Grace?” Ser Davos cleared his voice before speaking in an effort to not startle the young Queen before him.

Daenerys turned around, smiling at the older man. She had always felt at ease in his presence, and the fact that Jon trusted him implicitly was always welcoming. “No, I’m afraid not.”

He returned her smile with a genuine one of his own, the emotion lighting up his kind eyes. “Would you mind the company of an old man?”

She laughed gently, her smile growing wider. “Of course not, Ser Davos. You are welcomed in my presence anytime.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement, walking closer to stand beside her at the railing there on the bow of the ship. They stood in silence together for a few moments, just enjoying the others presence and the waves tapping gently against the flagship. “His grace has shared with me that you have extended the offer of a marriage alliance.” Davos finally broke the silence, wanting to an opportunity to get to know more the young monarch before him.

Dany was not surprised that Jon had confided in him, even though they had not made their intentions known to the rest of her council as of yet. “I have. I believe it is in the entirety of the Kingdom’s best interest.”

It was Davos’ turn to laugh gently, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “May I speak frankly your Grace?”

Daenerys nodded her head for him to continue.

“I am not the smartest of men, but I know this isn’t entirely political or about the war effort. I am genuinely pleased for both your Graces and feel that you both deserve this happiness you’ve found with one another. Love in a noble marriage is a rare thing indeed. For the first time in their whole shit history it appears the Seven Kingdoms are going to be ruled by a just woman and an honorable man. And this fulfills the pact of Ice and Fire.”

She looked at him, a look of confusion etched upon her face. “The pact of Ice and Fire?”

“Aye, your grace. During the Dance of the Dragons, one of the concessions promised to the North was that a Targaryen Princess would marry into the Stark family. Unfortunately, Prince Jacaerys perished during the civil war and the pact was largely forgotten about.” He explained to the Queen.

Dany looked on in surprise. There was still much she had to learn about her family and their long history within the Kingdoms. Viserys had taught her some things, but only what he deemed necessary. Ser Barristan had tried to teach her more, but their time together had been all too short. “How do you know this, Ser? Forgive me, but I was never given a formal education.”

Davos turned somber as his thoughts turned to the young Princess Shireen. The ill-fated Princess had taught him to read on tomes of Targaryen history. He stared out ahead at the water, fighting back the tears and emotions that threatened to spill over. “A very precious little girl was once very dedicated in teaching me to read. She was quite adamant about it and never missed a lesson in educating me. The very first book I learned was a history of Aegon the Conqueror. After that one, we continued with further books on Targaryen history.”

“Was she your daughter?” Daenerys noticed his demeanor change almost immediately after the question left her lips, and regret gripped her heart.

“I wish to the Gods she had been, maybe she would still be alive today if she was.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself to continue the conversation. “I was only blessed with a son your Grace, though the Gods also saw fit to take him from me as well as my wife”

She reached out her hand to lay on top of his on the railing, trying to provide him some sort of comfort. She was also no stranger to loss, and knew how hard it must be to open up about this with her who was practically a stranger to him. And a Queen. “I am very sorry for all of your losses, Ser.”

Davos smiled sadly to the Dragon Queen. “Don’t be sad on my account your Grace. Aye, I’ve suffered but loss has touched every single one of us in this world. It’s how we pick ourselves up and carry on that matters.”

Dany smiled back to him, a sadness still in the air between them. “I would be most pleased Ser Davos if you would consider teaching me more of the history of my house?”

“I would be very honored to do so, your Grace.”

“Please, just call me Daenerys.”

Ser Davos smiled brightly at the young woman before him, feeling even more hope that the Seven Kingdoms were truly in good hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know in the books Davos' wife is still alive and so are more of his children, but I am mostly going with the show version of his family in this. Sorry if you don't like it :(
> 
> I also think that this may be growing beyond just some one-shots. What do you think? Is there enough interest for me to continue? Your comments give me life and keep me going.


	4. The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this only my second time writing ANY type of smut, ever. So if that isn't your thing then skip the end of this chapter. If it is your thing, should I start to include more?

Daenerys had enlisted both Ser Davos and Tyrion to give her a crash course in the Westerosi education she had sorely lacked during the remaining days of their voyage. Davos had concentrated on Targaryen history, while Tyrion had filled in the missing pieces and then had worked with her on the customs and traditions of the Kingdoms. Davos was instrumental in teaching her about the smallfolk of Kings Landing, and the plight of those far more less fortunate.

The days spent with both men had taught her that she truly didn’t know or understand the lands in which she wished to rule. She vowed to both of them that they would be continuing the education on their journey, and even after she was seated on the throne. She would not be like those before her, but wanted better.

The plans had also been made for a Northern wedding in the Godswood once they had reached Winterfell. Her small council, along with Jon and Davos, had been careful in constructing their marriage contract. They would be ratifying the pact of Ice and Fire, having a wedding according to the Northern tradition with the old Gods, and uniting the Northern Kingdom back into the fold with the others. In return, the North would get full access to her armies and strength of the Dragons in the war to come, as well as all the provisions they had brought with them to see all through winter. They would also get a King of Stark blood on the Iron Throne.

Jon had insisted that the North was seemingly coming out better in the negotiations. Dany had brushed his concerns away, as she felt she was the one getting the better portion. Not only was she getting to marry a man she actually cared for, but one that treated her with respect and would never try to use her claim for his own. The North would also be back in the Seven Kingdoms, and no longer an independent nation. Like she had reasoned, she would have had to use her armies and dragons to fight the true threat eventually.

Now tomorrow, after a month long journey at sea, they would be disembarking at White Harbor. The plan was to meet their armies, spend a few days coordinating their movements and then continue onwards to the three hundred fifty-mile march to Winterfell.

“House Manderly, right? Their sigil is a Merman. Their keep is New Castle.” Daenerys brushed her hair out at the vanity in her bedchamber, looking into the looking glass to the bed behind her where Jon was currently laying down.

“Yes, House Manderly has been in White Harbor since at least a thousand years before the conquest. They’ve been one of House Stark’s oldest allies. Lord Wyman Manderly is the current head of the family. His son Wylis, is his heir. His second son Wendel perished with my brother at the Red Wedding. He has two daughters, Wynafred and Wylla. His wife passed in childbed with Wendel.” Jon had been taught the history of all Northern houses, along with his own, with his brother Robb. Their father, Ned, had deemed it essential that he was given the same education as his brother despite the Lady Catelyn’s feelings on the matter.

She brushed her hair slowly and more deliberately, as if stilling herself to soak in more information. She didn’t want any missteps socially like she had with Davos, asking him about his family. While she had gotten closer to the older man, and knew he didn’t hold anything against her curiosity, she knew that the North would be different. And she would not appear uneducated about them or their customs.

“They will offer us guest rights upon arrival, which we will accept along with their hospitality just for a few days. That will give us enough time to get the provisions and supplies off the ships, and get the armies ready to march north with us at their head.”

Dany put the brush down, and turned to face Jon. Her stomach had been in knots all day and it had caused her to not have much of an appetite. “I’ve already had Missandei prepare my white coats for me. As much as I want to wear my house colors proudly, I decided that it might not look the best until I can show my true intentions. I know the bad blood between my house and the North is going to be my biggest obstacle, and I don’t want small bad decisions to taint them further against me.”

Jon frowned, knowing how difficult this was for her despite the fact that she had embraced the knowledge of the North with open arms as she had learning about the other Kingdoms over the past few weeks. “You shouldn’t have to change who you are, Dany.”

She smiled sadly to him. “I’m not changing myself. I’m just doing what is best for my subjects. I know the name Targaryen is not very welcomed in the North and I cannot appear as if I am coming to conquer. It would not be prudent for me to constantly remind them of the past, my very presence will do that for me without me needing to dress the part.”

“They will come to see you for who you are. I know I have.” He stood up from the bed, his tunic the only clothing on his body. He took her hair in his hands, braiding it into a single braid down the length of her back. “I remember seeing you for the first time at Dragonstone. I honestly had no idea what to expect. Never in a million years, given our rocky start to a friendship if you could even call it that, would I imagine we would be here.”

“And in a fortnight, I will become your wife.” She pushed back from the vanity chair, turning around to stand directly in front of him. Grabbing the edges of his tunic, she made short work of bringing it over his head until he stood as naked as his name day in front of her. She brought her hands up to his chest, tracing the lines of his scars and muscles with her fingers.

Jon bent down to kiss her, groaning into her mouth upon the sensation of feeling her fingernails being drug down his chest. Her fingers crept lower until she reached the length of him, taking him into her hands. Slowly she worked him to harden underneath her touch, their kisses becoming more frenzied as he bucked his hips into her hands.

He brought his hands down to her, stopping her movements. Nibbling at her lip he ran his hands up the sides of her, grabbing at the thin nightdress before sliding it off of body and onto the floor. Her nipples hardened at the exposure to the colder air as she pressed her body to his for warmth. Kissing his way down her body he took a nipple into his mouth, drawing a gasp from her at the tenderness of her breasts.

“Take me to bed, Jon Snow.” Her voice was heavy with want for him and he did not deny her. He picked her up with ease as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her close as he carefully maneuvered them to the bed, laying her gently upon the soft feather mattress. He took a deep breath as he looked down at her, a part of him still not believing that this was real.

Dany spread her legs to welcome him into her embrace. Climbing on the bed to join her Jon began to work his way down her body with kisses. He placed kisses on her neck, down to her breasts, her stomach, and finally to the apex of her thighs. Using his tongue, he began to probe at her slick folds before finding the pearl of her womanhood. She grabbed fistfuls of sheet underneath her, crying out as he found the most sensitive area of her body.

He continued with the caresses of his tongue, lapping up the sweet honey of her body. Her moans of pleasure cascaded louder into the night, encouraging him to continue. He looked up from his position between her thighs, mesmerized at seeing the woman before him become completely undone. Her mouth was open, eyes closed, and her face was relaxed in pleasure. Her fingers found the tie of his hair, sliding it off as the curls he kept restrained sprang free.

Her hips began to shake underneath him, and he knew that she was reaching the peak of her pleasure. He stopped then, taking his cock in his hands and positioned himself at her entrance. Her legs spread wider to him in open invitation and he pushed into her with no resistance. Their two bodies were joined together in the rhythmic dance of lovers. He pushed into her harder when she wrapped her legs back around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

Her nails scratched up and down his back as she chased her released, clenching her inner walls against the length of him inside of her. Their breathing became labored in unison as his thrusting became more wild and erratic against her body. She knew that his own release was not far behind when his body began to tense. She began to work her hips harder up to meet his own, feeling the familiar feeling building from deep within her body.

Dany cried out when her climax hit, the explosion of sensation taking over her entire body. She drew her nails in so that Jon feared she might draw blood, her legs clenched around his waist to draw him in. Feeling her tighten down around his manhood was all it took to bring about his own release. He thrust in once more before he stilled, his seed spilling deeply into her.

He laid his head on her chest, feeling her begin to run her fingers through his dark curls as they recovered their passions. He didn’t want to withdraw from her depths, knowing that this would be the last time they would be connected physically until after their departure from White Harbor and were making camp on the way to Winterfell. For once in his entire life, he wanted to be selfish. He never wanted to part from the woman underneath him, enjoying the constant steady beat of her heart as he fell asleep in her embrace.


	5. White Harbor

Lord Wyman Manderly sat at one of the heads of the large table in the Merman Court, the great hall of New Castle. His last surviving son, Wylis, sat to his right while his daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla, stood directly behind them with the household guard. Daenerys had never seen household guards dressed so lavishly, with their silver tridents and green and blue tunics. At the opposite head of the table sat Daenerys and Jon, side by side. To the left of Jon sat Ser Davos, and a few of the soldiers that had accompanied him to Dragonstone. To the right of Daenerys sat Tyrion in his position of Hand of the Queen. Next to him was Missandei, followed by Varys. Grey Worm had arrived along with the Dothraki earlier in the day. He stood directly to the left behind his Queen with two of his most trusted commanders. Qhono, one of her Dothraki Blood Riders, stood behind her to the right.

The new pact of Ice and Fire, their marriage contract, laid open upon the great table. Lord Manderly would act as witness to the final signing of the pact, but had stipulated certain conditions of his own in exchange for the support of his house. Knowing that they were the second most powerful house in the North, behind the Starks, Daenerys had agreed to listen and so the negotiations had begun. Having their support behind her would play a bigger role in getting the North to accept her claim.

“White Harbor, as you know your Grace, is the largest port in the North. As such we should be the ones to receive the provisions you are providing to the North. We can then arrange the disbursement with envoys from each Northern house. I’ve also been made aware that the Tyrell’s are still allied to your cause?” Lord Manderly’s voice boomed out with his Northern accent.

“That is true, my Lord.” Daenerys kept her voice pleasant, but had put upon her regal mask. She didn’t want to appear to be a soft girl, nor did she want to come across as a cold woman. Missandei had braided her hair in a simpler style than her usual ornate designs, with only two braids at the sides that met in the back into one long braid down her back, allowing the rest of her hair to fall in waves around her. She was dressed in a dark cream colored dress with the faintest of red stitching. As usual she had on her boots and riding breeches underneath. The Tyrells, or rather the only member left of the family, was still allied to her cause. Willas Tyrell had been the only member of the family fortunate enough to survive, having been at Old Town during the sacking of Highgarden to see Maesters in the Citadel about the leg that constantly gave him problems. The loss of Olenna still stung.

“My oldest daughter, Wynafryd, is not yet betrothed and is of child bearing age. House Manderly originated in the Reach, your Grace, and I would be honored if my daughter could return there as wife to the Lord Paramount of the Reach.”

Daenerys looked behind the Lord and saw that Wynafryd was smiling. She was beautiful young woman, with thick long brown hair and the palest of blue eyes. Dany hated the fact that she felt as if she was selling this woman in marriage to secure her own marriage alliance, but it appeared as if Lady Manderly was not opposed to it at all. Willas Tyrell was a good prospect for a husband, despite his physical disability. He was a well learned man, and respectful. It would be a good match.

“My last term of negotiation, your Grace, is my youngest daughter. I believe Wylla would serve you well at court, as one of your ladies.” He smiled to the Queen, but his smile was almost a smirk. It was not uncommon for a great Lord to find other places of honor for their younger daughters. Especially for the youngest daughter, who generally would not have as advantageous a marriage match as an older daughter. Wylla had the same beauty as her sister, but made no outward show of emotion. If she was pleased, or even angry about her father’s suggestion, not a hint was displayed upon her face.

Jon cleared his throat, having heard enough of the older man’s demands whilst still remaining respectful to his banner man. “Lord Manderly, say that the Queen and I do agree to these stipulations and grant you what you’ve asked. By doing so, we can count on your full support? We need every house we can behind us, not only in the Great War but the wars yet to come. Cersei cannot stay in power, and has wronged the North grievously. I would see her deposed and the rightful Queen upon the Iron Throne.”

“Aye, with a Stark on the Iron Throne beside her as King of the Seven Kingdoms. Let her legitimize you so that you may carry the name to your heirs, and that a Stark will remain King after you.” The older Lord relaxed into his seat.

Jon clenched his jaw tightly, using all of his strength to hold his tongue at the disrespect. Daenerys softly squeezed his knee underneath the table, her own ire brewing beneath the surface. It was not like she had not offered him the Stark name, but he had refused her every time the conversation turned to it. She would not show her weakness about her barrenness. Lord Manderly, nor any Lord, did not need to know that her line would end with her. They would need to name an heir eventually, so what would it matter agreeing to this proposal. Especially if it would garner them the support they so desperately needed from a Northern house right now. After all, Lord Manderly’s support would encourage the other houses of the North to follow suit.

“I agree to your conditions, my Lord, as long as my betrothed feels the same.” Dany kept her voice neutral, not willing to let anyone see just how much this was getting under her skin. After all a Queen did not belong to herself, but to her people. She would let this slight go for the betterment of the realm.

Jon glanced at her, meeting her violet gaze with his own dark grey. She squeezed his knee again, as if to reassure him that she was alright and that all was going to be well. “I agree. Lord Tyrion, if you would be so kind as to write in Lord Manderly’s requests so that we can ratify this pact.”

Tyrion bowed his head in acknowledgement, carefully pulling the parchment over to himself. All sat in silence as the Hand of the Queen worked diligently on adding the words to the document. When he had it completed, both monarchs signed their names and affixed their seals baring each of their house sigils. Wyman Manderly, as promised, happily signed his name as witness and supporter to the Pact of Ice and Fire.

“Now, shall we feast?” He smiled brightly to the King and Queen before him, ready to show off the wealth of White Harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've mixed some of show Manderly history and book history. Also brought in mention Willas Tyrell and plan to bring in a few other book characters who were sorely left out of the show throughout the course of this journey. There will continue to be a mixture of canon, except for the disastrous season 8. We don't know her. And no, Jon's Targaryen name (when we get to that reveal) will NOT be Aegon.


	6. Missandei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balerion is the name of Daenerys' ship in the book, and her flagship on the show was never named so I just carried that one over.   
> Wanted something to try an show the friendship between these two awesome women, since it's mostly been Dany/Jon, some Davos sprinkled in, and some politics.

Snow fell softly outside of the window, the large flakes illuminated by the backdrop of the bright moon and stars. Dany had made sure to keep the drapes drawn so that she could stare into the wonder of winter. She had never seen snow before in her life before arrive at White Harbor, as Essos was not exactly known for winter weather. The beauty of it was absolutely breathtaking. Tyrion had counseled her that White Harbor was the only city in the North that was modeled after cities in the South, and that she would find little luxuries or comfort on their journey towards Winterfell. If she could survive the Red Waste, and live most of her life without any comfort at all, then the North would not bother her as he thought it would.

Lord Manderly had proven to be a very gracious host, having lavishly provided Daenerys with gifts of Northern fur. He had reasoned that their new Queen of Winter would need to look the part of a Northerner, remarking that her coats and gowns had the flare of a Southron. She was wrapped in one of the grey wolf pelt blankets now, laying in the canopied bed while watching the night sky. It was truly one of the softest things she had ever felt, and the warmth it provided was welcoming to her dragon blood. The other furs would be fashioned to make winter coats for her, as well as had fur lining and trim to some of her existing dresses.

She had retired to her chambers shortly after dinner, having been completely exhausted. Three days now they had been guests at Newcastle, and those days had been long and tiring. They all began their days shortly after dawn, working in council meetings, with the Armies, or overseeing the unloading of supplies until dinner. Her mid-day meal was always spent with her dragons. Drogon and Rhaegal were not adjusting to the cold weather as well as she had hoped. Their appetite had not been as robust as she was accustomed, but neither was hers. Northern food had been strange to her, though she never drew attention to the fact that it was not settling well with her stomach. She could not afford to show any weakness if anyone thought her ill, nor be seen to be disrespecting traditional Northern dishes if she refused.

The door opened and Dany sat up in bed, clutching the grey wolf pelt tighter around her body. She knew it could only be one person whom the guards would allow in freely in this new keep without announcing to her. Missandei strode over to the vanity in the room, laying a tray with steaming tea upon it. Dany could smell the mint and knew that this would help settle her stomach.

“You always take such great care of me.” She smiled to her closest friend and advisor, beckoning for her to join her upon the bed.

Missandei brought a cup of tea over, carefully handing it off to the Queen. “It’s still very warm, just be careful. I made sure to put extra mint in there tonight. I know it’s been the only thing helping.”

Dany happily took the cup, blowing the steam off the top before gingerly taking a sip. She closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation of the mint and the way it seemed to instantly calm her stomach, before opening them and offering another smile. “I think all of the traveling, long days, change of climate, and food have finally caught up to me.”

“You look exhausted. I almost thought you’d be asleep by the time I could even make it back from the kitchens.” Her almond brown eyes twinkled with amusement as she climbed in bed next to Daenerys.

“One would think I would be getting more sleep here than on _Balerion_ with Jon not in my bed.” She finished the tea, placing the empty mug on the table beside her. They had decided that once they were off the flagship, they would not be able to share a bed again until they reached camp. Newcastle and White Harbor would be full of people that would not be as discreet as the ones they trusted. The last thing they needed was rumors to taint their marriage contract away from Northern support.

Missy laughed, and the sound was so sweet to Dany’s ears. “My apologies your grace for not being an exhausting bed partner.”

Dany playfully rolled her eyes, though she was happy to have had Missandei with her. She felt bad for taking her away from Grey Worm, but he had been so preoccupied with ensuring that the Unsullied knew the plan flawlessly and that all supplies were loaded in wagons and ready to depart.

“Thank you for being here for me, Missy.” Her voice cracked with emotion. Missandei had come into her life at a point when she desperately needed it. She had been coming into her own, coming into power, and beginning her road to liberation but had no one that was close to her that she could trust without a doubt. Missandei had always been that person from the moment Dany freed her from Kraznys in Astapor. She supported her, advised and counseled her, and was never afraid to speak her mind, but loved her whole heartedly. That was a rare thing for anyone to experience, let alone a Queen.

Missandei drew her into a hug upon seeing the tears welling up in her friend’s eyes. “Don’t be afraid, Daenerys. You are the Mother of Dragons, and the Breaker of Chains. I know so much has happened, and so many uncertainties lay ahead of us. But I believe in you. I believe in what you’re trying to accomplish. And I’m happy for you. Remember in Mereen? You were so afraid you would be trapped into another loveless marriage. Now you get to marry someone who loves you, and he’s not too bad to look at either.”

Dany laughed gently, feeling her closest friend wipe the tears that spilled from her face. “Maybe I am afraid. Because every time I feel that things are going to be okay, the Gods have saw fit to curse me with loss. I’m afraid to lose you during this war, I’m afraid to lose him. I’m afraid to lose anyone else that I may care about. And after this is over…you know I cannot give him children. What happens when he decides I’m not enough?”

“You have told him this, yes?”

“Of course I have. Several times. He doesn’t believe it, and has said as much to me. He claims that no matter what, my ability to give him an heir doesn’t matter.”

“Why don’t you believe him then? He’s shown his loyalty to you.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not so much afraid of him, but of others. You were in the meeting when we signed the pact. The Northern lords want a Stark on the Throne. Tyrion was smart about it and only included the legitimization of Jon to a Stark in the agreement, nothing about heirs carrying that name, just the legitimization. What happens when that isn’t enough for other lords? Maybe learning the history of my house has made me fear for being a Targaryen Queen. And tomorrow we start the march to Winterfell, and to his family.”

“From what I’ve seen of King Snow, he would do nothing to harm you and would kill any man who dared. You saw the look he gave Lord Manderly at the council meeting, and I know you did because you were looking at him. I have no doubt that if you had not been there to temper his anger with your presence, we would have found out exactly why they call him the ‘White Wolf’ of Winterfell. Understand that his family may not be as welcoming to you, after everything you’ve told me of what happened with your father and brother. But have faith in him, my Queen.”

Daenerys pulled back from the hug, taking Missandei’s hands within her own. “Thank you my friend, you always know exactly what counsel I am needing. I wish you would accept a permanent position in my small council.”

“I am always happy to advise you, my queen, but I do not seek political favor or gain. I would not have the patience to listen to men who think they are better than us because of what hangs between their legs. I am happy to serve, but let me serve in a way of my choosing.”

“Anything, my friend. Even if you wished to go back home to your island, I would make sure you had a comfortable life and a safe journey. Though I would miss you beyond words can compare.” Dany smiled sadly, her heart cracking at the thought.

“I know, and I know you would wish me good fortune no matter the decision I made. It is why I follow you, why we all follow you. You’re the Queen we chose, Daenerys. Do not lose sight of your purpose in this place. No matter what they may try to do to you.”


	7. The Dragons

They had been traveling for four days now, the weather having been mild enough to allow them to cover more ground. It had been decided that the Manderly’s and a fourth of their forces would stay behind in White Harbor, should the need arise that Winterfell would need to be evacuated. Newcastle would serve as the retreat point, Daenerys’ fleet of ships remaining on standby to make haste for Dragonstone with evacuees as needed. The old Lord Wyman had been agreeable to this plan, wishing to keep his only remaining male heir as far from the battle as possible. Lord Wylis Manderly had not been so agreeable, but finally acquiesced to his fathers demands before the royal departure.

Before they had departed to begin their journey, ravens had been sent to all corners of the realm to announce the betrothal of the King in the North and the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By now they should have reached all keeps in the North, and the majority of the ones in the South. Daenerys could only imagine how the news was being received by those in the South, especially Cersei.

She knew that the pretender Queen must be seething with rage as more of the Seven Kingdoms continued to slip away from her fragile grasp. Jon had brought her the entirety of the North, and along with that would the Vale since they were sworn to the Starks now. Daenerys also had the Reach, and now the support of Dorne again after their new Princess Arianne Martell was able to finally seize control of the country for herself. Ravens had given her the good news of Theon’s successful campaign to rescue Yara, and so the Iron Islands were firmly back on their side. The only kingdoms in which she had no allies were the Stormlands and Westerlands. Slowly the circle was being closed in on Cersei. All they had to do was survive the Great War and then rip her out of Kings Landing.

Her attention was diverted from her thoughts by Drogon nuzzling up to her. The large scarlet and black dragon was always attuned to her moods and knew when to give his mother comfort, but this evening he had been especially attentive and gentle. She brought her hands up to stroke his snout, being rewarded with plumes of smoke emitting from his nostrils and a sound that could only be described as cooing. She had come to the nest that they had made their own for the night after eating her evening meal with the Dothraki.

The familiar spices and tastes had put her at ease, and she ate heartily for the first time in over a week. Missandei had accompanied her and enjoyed the cuisine as well, but had bid Daenerys goodnight when they came upon Grey Worm on their way to the dragons. Dany couldn’t blame her, she knew that the lovers time together was not near as much as the other had hoped. And she would not stand in the way of their happiness when they could steal those moments together.

Rhaegal’s large head turned around to look beyond his mother, and that’s when Dany could hear the crunching of boots against the freshly falling snow upon the charred bones upon the ground. She knew by Rhaegal’s reaction and Drogon’s indifference that it could only be one person.

“The tents have been set up for the evening whenever you’d like to retire for the night.” Jon’s voice was always welcome to her ears, his Northern accent seemingly growing thicker the closer to his home they became. Rhaegal sauntered over to him, extending his long neck out to receive the same sort of attention his brother was receiving from their mother.

Dany smiles at the sight, adoring at how her sons had so completely embraced the King in the North. Perhaps they sensed his love for her, and were comfortable with the fact that he would do nothing to bring harm to her. She watched as Rhaegal relished the feeling of Jon’s touch upon his scales by closing his eyes and grumbling out a purring noise. “He seems really taken with you.”

Jon had removed his gloves from his hands, having tucked them into his belt before he began petting the dragon before him. He was still in awe of their mighty presence, and the fact that Dragons roamed the world once again. “He’s so warm”.

“Dragons are fire made flesh, my love. They’re always warm.” Her voice took on a teasing edge.

“I suppose that’ll be really helpful now that winter is upon us.” Jon stated with a matter of fact.

She giggled, “I suppose so.” Drogon, tired of no longer being the center of his mother’s attention, nuzzled back up to her and pressed his great snout to her stomach. She looked so tiny next to the massive beast she called son. Her laughter continued at his actions as she brought her hands up to continue to pet him.

“He reminds me of Ghost when I stop scratching behind his ear.” The mention of his direwolf made Jon even more homesick to see him. And to see Arya and Bran. He still could not believe that they were alive, and returned home.

“I can’t wait to meet him. I hope he likes me. Maybe I should put some burnt bacon in my coat just to make sure.” Her violet eyes twinkled in amusement.

She got the response she wanted when she heard Jon laugh out loud, the image of Ghost searching through her coat for the bacon in his mind.. “I’d wager he’s almost your height now, so he’d probably completely knock you down if you did that and take it anyway. I don’t think you have to worry, Dany. I am sure he will love you as I do.”

Bidding goodnight to her sons in Valyrian, she made her way over to Jon, slipping her arm in his when he offered it. Slowly they began to make the short walk from the dragon’s nest back to their campsite. They walked in silence, arm in arm, watching as the last bit of the sun disappeared from the horizon. The only light left by the time they made it to her tent were the torches lining the camp. They each had their own tent for propriety sake, but Ser Davos was the only one staying in Jon’s. He would come sneak into hers after the last torches were extinguished and then disappear back to his own right before the first light of day.

Jon bent down and kissed her gently, savoring the sweet taste of her lips on his. He inhaled her scent, always finding the hint of lavender and spice exhilarating. 

“Goodnight, my Queen.” He winked at her, knowing full well that within the hour he’d be back to this very tent and into the bed in which he belonged.

“Goodnight, my King. Sleep well.” Dany smiled at him, before opening the flap and disappearing into her tent.


	8. Ghost in the night

It was just past the hour of the wolf, the darkest part of the night. Daenerys was curled up on her side, sleeping deeply under layers of fur for warmth. Jon lay behind her, his arm resting gently over her body. They had made love only once during their evening, knowing that they had a long day ahead of them when dawn came. The morning would bring their last full day of marching towards Winterfell, as long as no winter storm happened upon them. She snuggled her body deeper into his embrace, gladly sharing the heat from his body. While she had always burned warm, the climate of the North was taking some adjustment. She had never experienced cold like this before, and was thankful for the gifts of fur from Lord Manderly.

Ghost, silent as his namesake, entered the tent without a disturbance to the royal couple or any of their guards posted outside. He padded over undetected to Dany’s side of the bed, stopping in front of the sleeping Queen. He sniffed at her body, moving his snout down to her belly. Gently he nudged Jon’s hand away from her body before resting his head on the bed.

Dany stirred as she felt the absence of the weight of his arm from around her, and the lack of warmth. She reached down to bring his hand back over her body and was met with the feeling of fur, followed by a wet nose. Suddenly her eyes shot open and her heart began to beat erratically. Meeting her gaze was the large direwolf, nearly the size of her horse. His fur was as white as the falling snow, and his blood red eyes seemed to pierce into her very soul.

She screamed loudly in a panic, jumping from the bed as fast her body could move with only one of the fur blankets wrapped around her body. Ghost did not move, and remained standing silently still next to the bed. Jon had warned her that Ghost was not the size of a normal wolf, and that he was as quiet as the grave, but seeing him in such a startling way had not been something she was expecting.

Jon’s eyes went wide, all traces of sleep forgotten when he heard Dany’s screams. He jumped up, grabbing Longclaw from its scabbard beside the bed in the process. He stood, naked as his name day, as Unsullied guards began to rush into the tent at the sound of the screams. It wasn’t long before Tyrion and Ser Jorah rushed in with torches, Ser Davos following quickly at their heels.

“Ghost, to me.” The direwolf looked up at him, cocking his head sideways in amusement at the commotion unfolding before him. He then trotted over to him, licking at his hands before flopping down and laying at his feet.

Dany’s heart was still beating wildly as she clutched the fur tighter against her body. She looked up as the tent flap opened again, Grey Worm and Missandei both entering the tent. Suddenly she couldn’t help but laugh at what a sight this must be. Her wrapped in furs, Jon naked clutching his Valyrian steel sword with a massive direwolf at his feet, and now a tent full of unsuspecting people who’d had their own sleep disturbed.

“Are you alright Khaleesi?” Ser Jorah’s voice brought her back from her laughter and to her senses.

She put on her Queenly mask, pulling herself to her full height. “Thank you all for coming to my assistance. It appears my betrothed’s wolf couldn’t wait for a proper introduction.”

Missandei covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, as Grey Worm moved forward. “Ao hae nyke naejot nādīnagon se dyni ñuha dāria (Would you like me to remove the beast my Queen)?”

“Daor, Turgo Nudha. Kostā jikagon arlī naejot ēdrugon (No Grey Worm. You may go back to sleep).”

The Unsullied commander bowed his head at her words before taking Missandei’s hand and escorting her back to her tent and then to his own. The Unsullied guards followed him out the entrance to resume their post outside of royal tent. 

Ser Davos was smiling and shaking his head as he turned and left to go back to the tent that he shared with Jon. Ser Jorah gave her a wary look before also taking his leave. This left only Tyrion alone with the King and Queen.

Tyrion eyed Jon up and down, a smirk resting on his face. “I can see why our Queen is so insistent on a marriage alliance.”

Jon’s face flushed in embarrassment. Daenerys rolled her eyes at her Hand. She could always count on him to be inappropriate. “Go to bed, Tyrion.”

“As her Grace commands.” He gave an exaggerated bow, whistling a bawdy tune as he departed for his own tent.

Ghost rose from his laying position at Jon’s feet to sit upright, completely ambivalent to the disturbance he had created throughout the camp. “I’m so sorry he scared you, Dany. Ghost mostly does what he pleases. He probably sensed my presence getting closer to home and was not content to wait any longer.”

Dany smiled while holding out her hand for the direwolf in an invitation. Ghost sauntered over, sniffing at her fingers before rubbing his head under her hand. “You don’t need to apologize. Red glowing eyes is just the last thing I expected to rouse me from sleep.” He nuzzled into her belly, knocking her backwards on to the bed to rest his head in her lap.

She laughed, scratching behind his ears with her fingers. The great beast instantly relaxed into her touch. “I think he likes me.”

“I knew he would.” Jon sheathed Longclaw back in its scabbard before climbing back into bed next to her.

Ghost saw that as his invitation and happily climbed into bed with them, working his way directly in the middle and pushing them apart from one another. The wooden support of the bed groaned under the added weight, but Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh as the direwolf made himself right at home.

“Does he always sleep with you?”

“Normally on the floor next to my bed, or near the hearth. He hasn’t done this since he was a pup.”

“Well then I feel really honored.” She continued to smile as Ghost laid his head on her stomach, nudging her hand to rest on top of him.

Jon couldn’t help but smile at the sight as well, happy that his direwolf was as accepting of her as her dragons had been of him. “I think we’re going to need a bigger bed.”


	9. Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and ideas/suggestions! I am always open to anything you might want to see :) I do have a general outline of where I’d like to take this, but nothing is concrete except a few points. Please continue to offer any support/feedback you can.

Sansa stood in the courtyard of Winterfell, ready to receive her brother and his guests. Arya fidgeted at her side, anxiously awaiting the reunion with Jon and the chance to see dragons. Bran sat in his wheelchair, stoic as always and staring off into the distance. They had received a raven several days prior announcing the betrothal of the Dragon Queen to their brother, and the news had not been welcomed by Sansa as it had by her siblings.

Littlefinger had warned her that this would happen. Jon was a King, young and unmarried. The Dragon Queen was also young and unmarried. She had to admit that it did make sense in terms of securing a powerful alliance and provisions for the North for what promised to be one of the most harsh winters in decades. However their family had not fared well under Southron rulers, nor in marriage alliances.

She thought back to her own torture at the hands of Joffrey, and Cersei. Then the loss of their father and eldest brother. She had warned Jon that he needed to be careful, and that he had to be smarter than both father and Robb if he was to survive. All she wanted was her pack together, and safe. Now when this war was done, he would be leaving them again to go to Kings Landing with the Dragon Queen and Stark men never fared well in the south. Sansa was a smart girl, and knew that while she desperately wanted the North to be independent after all the horrors they’d suffered, it would not be practical. Winter was upon them, and they depended on trade and resources from other kingdoms throughout this harsh time.

Knowing the realities of their situation and the fact that Jon had already secured support from the Manderly’s, she would do her duty as the Lady of Winterfell despite her personal feelings. After all, she was raised to be a Lady and would never show outright disrespect to royalty. The rational part of her brain knew that she should just trust her brother, and his instincts. He had not disappointed her during his reign, and had shown that he was a ruler who cared about all. But the part of her that was still the terrified and abused young woman could not open her heart so easily.

Two great roars overhead brought her suddenly out of her thoughts, as the majority of the people present in the courtyard cowered at the sound. Sansa stood straight and tall, she would not show fear. Fear was a weapon that could be used against her. Drogon and Rhaegal flew over the keep, the wind rustling under their wings as they went further north to find a suitable nest.

Arya stared up at the sky in complete wonderment. All her life she had loved the tales of dragons and the Targaryens of old. Never had she dared to hope that she would ever see them in person. She had heard the rumors of their existence when she lived in Braavos, as well as rumors of the Dragon Queen. Now she would get to see them for herself.

Bran sat as he always did, indifferent and emotionless.

The gates of Winterfell were opened by the guards, Jon riding in on his great black destrier. Daenerys was riding along side him, as an equal, on a horse as white as newly fallen snow. Ghost trotted just a few paces behind their own. Their routine began to file in behind them. Ser Davos and Ser Jorah rode on horseback, while Lord Tyrion and Varys had elected to travel in a small wheelhouse. Missandei had also traveled on horseback as well the last few remaining miles, next to Grey Worm and ahead of the Unsullied and Dothraki forces.

Jon lightly brushed up against Dany’s hand in a discrete display of affection as he urged his horse forward to his siblings. He dismounted with ease, caught off guard by Arya rushing over and enveloping him in a huge hug. He returned the embrace warmly, silent tears falling down his face. He never thought he’d see her again. Sansa stood there stoically, not one to forget her decorum in front of so many guests. She would not rush forward.

Brother and sister stayed in their hug for what felt like an eternity for them, but lasted only mere moments. Daenerys heart ached at the sight, knowing that she had never had a true family. She was truly happy for Jon, and for all of his siblings. They were all reunited now, and home. Jon reluctantly let go of Arya and moved to give Sansa an embrace, though it was not filled with the warmth of the one he’d just shared with his youngest sister. 

“I’m glad you’ve made it home safely. I was worried for you.” Sanaa’s voice was barely above a whisper in his ear.

“You have no need to worry, sweet sister. All the Starks are back together again”. He broke the embrace and turned to Bran.

The young man before him was definitely not the boy he had so fondly remembered. Bran had been such a stubborn child, full of life and playfulness. He remembered being at Castle Black when Lord Commander Mormont had called him into his solar. He had been terrified to receive the news, sure that he would be told of Bran’d death. Instead he was told that he had awoken, and the joy Jon had felt at that moment was overwhelming.

The feeling of Daenerys joining him at his side pulled him from his memories. He had not even heard her dismount. He smiled sweetly to her, fighting the urge to take her hand in his own. “May I present Queen Daenerys of house Targaryen. First of her name. Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The Mo…”

His voice was cut off by Daenerys’ own, the smile lighting up her face brought joy to her violet eyes. “It is my pleasure to meet you all. Jon has shared such wonderful stories.”

Sansa eyed her warily. She was even more beautiful than people had claimed, but was much shorter than she imagined. One doesn’t think of a petite woman when they imagine a ferocious dragon rider. She could see why Jon would be enamored with her, if it was indeed what she had suspected. The smile she gave them was genuine enough it seemed, but it would take more than pleasant glances and kind words. She curtseyed deeply then, remembering her manners. “The pleasure is ours, your Grace. Winterfell welcomes you warmly with our hospitality and are so very grateful for you coming to our aid during this war.”

The auburn haired Stark kept her words respectful and flattering, without a tinge of the skepticism she felt towards the Dragon Queen.

“Rise, Lady Stark. Thank you for your kindness. I look forward to getting to know each of you. After all, we are to be family.” Daenerys replied, knowing the false courtesies behind the young woman’s demeanor. 

“When can I meet the dragons?” Arya spoke up, making her intentions plain.

Jon almost rolled his eyes at his favorite sisters insistence. “Arya…”

“We don’t have time for this.” The silent boy in the chair finally spoke.

All turned to face Bran, startled at the seriousness in his flat voice. He looked up at Daenerys, his eyes emotionless and uncaring. A chill went down her spine, and not from the coldness of the air around them.

“The Night King has your dragon. Because of this he has brought the wall down at Eastwatch. Nothing will stop him now from coming south. The army of the dead will be at our gates in a moons turn.” Bran continued to stare into her eyes, as if he could see into her soul.

Dany’s heart began to beat wildly inside of her chest, the rapid pounding flooding her ears. It felt as if she couldn’t breath, that air wouldn’t flow into her lungs. Her body began to tremble, a cold sweat breaking out onto her brow.

The last thing she saw was darkness.


	10. The Impossible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your continued feedback <3 it means so much more than you know and encourages me to keep going!

Jon had not left Daenerys’ side since her collapse in the courtyard. He had caught her just before her body hit the ground, scooping her up into his arms and taking her into the keep. Rooms had been prepared for the Queen and her retinue in the old King’s Tower. It had always been used for visiting royalty since the time that King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had started their royal progresses. The last time these chambers had been used was when the usurper, Robert Baratheon, had come to call upon Winterfell. Even though that had been many years’ prior, Sansa had made sure that the rooms were thoroughly cleaned and all linens refreshed. She would not be seen to be anything but a considerate hostess.

Missandei and a few of her handmaidens had changed her out of her thick white winter furs and coat, and had undone the intricate braids atop her head. Still the Queen did not sir. Now she lay in the great canopied bed in just a plain linen chemise, her silver hair loose around her. He could not help but think how small and frail she looked in the big bed, especially in the stillness of her face.

The sun had set and the keep was quiet, Jon was alone with nothing but his thoughts as he kept his vigil. Both Unsullied and Dothraki guards were posted outside. He felt guilty for the extreme measure, but would not be too careful. Not even in his own home. He was sure that his constant presence at her bedside would cause talk among the Lords and smallfolk, but he cared not. His place was at her side.

Maester Wolkan had assured him that she would wake and would be perfectly fine, that the startling news had been too much for her to bear after such an arduous journey. Jon had wanted to argue with him. He might have been a Maester of the Citadel but he didn’t know his Dany, and how strong she was. Sam had come by to see him, and had concurred with the Maester. They both had tried to comfort him with the knowledge that she could wake at any time, but that she needed the rest. He had sent them away after that, not wanting any more disturbances.

Jon could feel his eyes getting heavy as he kept his watch over the Queen. He was exhausted, but couldn’t bring himself to rest. What if she woke and he was asleep? He thought back to how Lady Catelyn had reacted after Bran fell and was asleep for all those days. He knew that this wasn’t near as serious but the feeling was overwhelming. He took pity on that memory now, and the harsh words that Lady Stark had spoken to him then in her grief.

Before he realized it he had closed his eyes and suddenly found himself outside the keep. His paws deftly navigated the snow as he made his way to the tower entrance. He tasted the blood of hunting still on his lips, metallic and heavy. His belly was full of fresh meat, and the hot dark blood the only color in his fur. A servant exited the tower and he slipped in the door before it closed without a sound. It was easy to move quietly through the corridors. This was his home and no one paid the wolf any mind.

He could see the guard posted outside the door and knew that he was where he was meant to be. The men were not scared of him, having grown use to his presence during the last leg of the journey to Winterfell. Knowing that Jon was inside and that the Queen had become very fond of him, they opened the door to bid him entrance into the bedchamber.

He padded his way over to the bed, sniffing at the still woman on the bed. With ease he jumped on the great bed, laying down next to Daenerys. He could see her chest rising and falling with every breath she took, content in the fact that her heart was beating at a normal pace and that she did not appear in any distress. She smelled different to him in this form, and he continued to sniff down her body. When he came upon her stomach he heard what sounded like the galloping of horses. Ghost laid his head upon her belly and the noise became clearer. It wasn’t galloping. It was a heartbeat. A fast one.

The realization of what that meant drew Jon back to his own body and away from Ghost. He looked into the red eyes of his direwolf and then to Daenerys. Two heartbeats. One her own and one that was not. She was with child. Suddenly be began to put the pieces together. She had not had an appetite, and when she did eat it had been sparingly and always with mint tea. The dragons had been overly attentive to her, and Ghost would not leave her side for long. It had been a moon and a half since they had left Dragonstone. He knew that meant that the first night they had lain together had created this child growing in her belly. That was the same night he had prayed so fervently for his seed to take root.

Arya entered the chamber, pushing Bran in his chair. The young man had a tray of food on his lap. The room was then filled with the aroma of rabbit stew and freshly baked bread. Jon’s stomach turned in hunger. She pushed him next to Jon’s chair, so that Bran would be in the middle of the two siblings as she took the chair opposite.

“You didn’t come for your meal, so we brought it to you.” His sister looked at his face, seeing the shock still on his features. “Is everything okay, Jon?” Her voice took on a concerned tone.

“He knows about the baby.” Bran spoke then as Arya’s jaw dropped open. She had suspected the true nature of her brother’s relationship with the Dragon Queen was more than a political and military alliance, but damn he worked quick.

“How do you know this?” Jon questioned his brother, not sure of what Bran had turned into.

“I’m the Three-Eyed Raven now. I can see what has been, what is to come. I’m still Bran, I’m still your brother. I’m just something more now. I’m still coming to terms with how to be both. I often don’t think of the consequences of sharing my knowledge. I know I need to be better in my wording. I apologize for what happened. It was not my intention to cause her harm. Especially not in her condition.” The young man seemed genuinely remorseful for what had happened, a sorrow tinging his flat voice.

Arya continued to be in shock at what was going on. She knew that her younger brother was much changed, but had just assumed that it was the life they had been forced to lead. After all he had been beyond the wall and into the wilderness for so long. Sansa had also shared with her that Bran had unexplainable gifts but this was not what she had in mind. She had only just begun to process the fact that the Dragon Queen herself would be her good-sister and now she was apparently going to be an aunt.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jon’s voice shook with emotion. He had never felt more helpless in his life.

“The Queen will wake before the hour of the bat. She is fine. Your baby is fine. She doesn’t know. She was so sure of the witch’s curse. She didn’t know that your life paid that debt.”

Bran’s eyes rolled back quickly into a blank canvas of white, as if searching for something. Suddenly he was back, and his eyes back to their normal deep blue.

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, when the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before. Those are the words the witch spoke to her. Quentyn Martell was the sun that rose in Westeros and died in Essos. The Dothraki sea is dried up. The Mountain was the Wall and it has fallen with ice and snow blowing into the wind. What the witch didn’t know is that the he wasn’t Drogo, but you. You and Daenerys have been destined for one another since your births. Your death and resurrection lifted that curse. She will bear a living child.”


	11. Sorrow and Love

Bran had been right about the hour upon which Daenerys would waken. The hour of the bat was fast upon them when her violet eyes fluttered open. Jon was instantly to her side, sitting next to her upon the bed and taking her hand in his own and bringing them up to his mouth in a kiss. It took a few moments for her to continue to come to her senses. She looked around the unfamiliar room, the events of the afternoon all coming back to her in an instant.

“Dany?” Jon’s voice was low but filled with emotion.

Her head was pounding and despite the hours at sleep, she felt as if she had not rested in a lifetime. Her dreams had been filled with horrible things. The memory of some drew a chill to her body. She looked up at her lover, tears welling up in her eyes. “Viserion, he is…”

She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.

He took her into his arms then, wrapping her tightly in his embrace. She had been so strong after her son had fallen from the sky, and he knew the grief was something she had not truly processed. She had been so intent on being by his own bedside during his recovery from the disastrous mission, and then the Dragon Pit summit, followed by their journey. He knew she’d not had any time to let out her emotions.

Her small body was wracked with sobs, the past few months finally spilling out into the tears falling down her face and onto his tunic. He just held her and rubbed her lower back gently, letting her get the release she so desperately needed. He knew that sometimes you just had to let someone be, and not offer words of comfort.

He continued lightly stroking her back until the sobs finally died down and no more tears could be shed. Daenerys pulled herself from his embrace. Jon looked down at her reddened face and brushed the remaining tears away.

“I’m so sorry.” He knew that his words could never convey the true depth of his regret.

She sniffled, pulling her Queenly mask back to her face. She appreciated his words but she would not allow herself to drown in the grief. The fact that the Night King had Viserion now meant that even more strength was on their side. After all she had been atop dragon back, and ridden in the skies. She knew exactly what they were capable of. “We have to evacuate Winterfell of those who cannot fight. Bran said they'll be here in a moons turn. We have enough time if we act now.”

It was still so fascinating to him that she could slip into being the Queen from the woman so easily. “We don’t need to talk about this right now, Dany. You need to eat and drink something.”

The very thought of food made her stomach turn and she felt bile rise up into her throat. She shook her head in disagreement. Dany knew she wouldn’t be able to keep anything down with how severe the pain was in her head.

Jon frowned, knowing that he would need to share the information he had learned from being inside Ghost’s skin. He had told her about his abilities while they were sailing together to White Harbor. She had been understanding of his gifts, and had explained that while she could not warg into the dragons she had a strong mental connection with them. She could feel their emotions; they could feel hers. She could communicate with them, and them her. “I know you may not feel up to it, but you have to. I can have the maester bring you a small dose of milk of the poppy if you need it, but you have got to try. It’s important.”

Dany stared at him with furrowed brows, not understanding the urgency and command in his tone.

“You remember when I told you that I can will my mind into Ghost? And walk about in his body?” His voice was softer now, trying to find the best words.

She nodded, the silence and tension urging him to continue.

“While you were out I slipped into Ghost. I let him guide me. He came in here to see you. When he jumped up on the bed and laid next to you I heard your heartbeat. And I heard our child’s heartbeat inside of you.”

Total shock washed over her face, her violet eyes going wide in surprise. She pulled away from him and up off the bed and crossed the room to the hearth and the fire that roared within. She felt unsteady at first, not sure if it was from being upright or from the news she had just received. “That is impossible.”

Jon rose from the bed and followed her, knowing that this would be difficult for her to process. He wanted so badly to tell her that he knew that the witch was wrong and that he was right. She wasn’t a reliable source of information. But he knew that those words be unwelcomed to her right now as she was processing what she had been told.

“You’ve made the impossible happen before, and you have again.” He came up behind her as she stared into the fire. Gently he took her into his embrace, placing his hands upon her stomach. “We have created life. Your house has not seen its end.”

She was thankful he could not see her face, and the tears that fell in silence. She did not know she could have any more tears to cry. She had wanted this so badly, had dreamed about it, but has resigned herself to the fact that she would never be a mother in the traditional sense. Her dragons would be her only children. And now the possibility of that being wrong was overwhelming and emotional. She was also upset with herself for not recognizing any of the signs within her own body. She knew that was irrational because why look for signs for something she knew would never happen. And now it would happen. While they were facing the greatest threat ever known to humanity.

The silence from Daenerys was something Jon had expected. He knew that it must be so hard to process the news that she was so sure she would never receive. He held her closer in his arms, savoring the moment between them as he inhaled the familiar scent of her hair. He closed his eyes, steadying himself for what he was about to say.

“Marry me, tomorrow night. I don’t care about the plans that have been made for us. Let us have something for ourselves. Then we can begin to plan with the news we have received all around. Bran will be helpful in the war to come.”

Dany brought her hands up to her face, wiping away the tears before she turned to face him. She was comforted when his strong arms wrapped around her again in this embrace, laying her head upon his chest. This should be the happiest moment for them both, but the uncertainties of the dead looming over them was heavy in the room. She tried to think back of the words she had spoken to him on _Balerion_. She had sworn to him that they would not let anything tear about their happiness and joy. She slowly pulled herself from the comforting embrace, wanting to look up into his eyes.

The love she saw reflected back into her own eyes put her heart at ease. She smiled to him then. “I would love that.”

Jon bent down and kissed her passionately. He was relieved when she returned the kiss with her own insistence, bringing her hands up in order to free his curls from their binding. They stayed like that in their lover’s embrace, trading kisses in front of the roaring hearth.


	12. The Godswood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all of your continued support and comments! Comments and feedback help encourage me to keep going :) I will try to keep updating at least once a day. I have a general outline of where I'd like things to progress, but am always open for any ideas or opinions.

Hasty preparations had been made for the wedding of the King in the North and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. While a wedding had been planned for a week after their arrival, the sudden change had sparked a flurry of activity within Winterfell. As the lady of Winterfell, Sansa had been placed in charge of the feast for afterwards. She did her duty on her honor as a Stark, though her feelings were still conflicted. She had tried to talk to Arya about the abruptness of the change, but had been told to mind her own business and to speak with their brother. She had thought about going to see Bran, but had decided against it. She would not stir more trouble than necessary.

She had not wanted to attend the wedding in the Godswood, the memories of the last wedding here still scarred upon her body. Sansa knew this was a different situation entirely, but walking into the Godswood and seeing the lanterns all lit and the guests gathered caused her heart to beat wildly. She kept having to mentally reassure herself that the past could no longer hurt her, and that her brother would always protect her. That would at least temper her nerves and get her through the evening. So would being with her siblings. She made her way towards the great tree, standing silently next to Arya and Bran.

Jon stood beneath the heart tree, with Ser Davos at his side. He had asked Davos that very morning to stand in the place of his father. They had shared an embrace then, with Davos telling him how proud he was of the man he had seen him become and that he would be the most honored person in Westeros to stand at his side.

Daenerys had decided that Ser Jorah would act in the place of her own father, as he had been with her the longest and had seen her grow from a scared child into the Queen she now was. She knew that his agreement to do so was not an easy thing for him to do, but that he would do anything she asked of him. She knew the feelings he had for her went beyond what she would ever be able to give him. Now they stood at the Godswood entrance.

Jorah looked over the Queen, content with seeing the happiness on her face. He extended his arm out to her. “I am happy for you, Khaleesi.”

Daenerys was pulled from her anxious thoughts about the ceremony and smiled up at her old bear. She happily took his arm and readied herself for his escort. “Thank you, my dearest friend. I would never have made it this far without you.”

He smiled at her, a tinge of sadness washed over his face. The door to the Godswood opened and a Stark guardsman emerged. “They are ready Ser, your Grace.”

She took one last look at her old bear, and turned towards the Godswood and her future as they began to walk arm in arm. They followed the lantern lit path until she could finally see the heart tree and the red leaved limbs that stretched out towards the sky. Dany saw Jon waiting for her, and smiled brightly to him.

When Jon saw her, his heart nearly stopped. She looked even more radiant than usual tonight, if that was even possible. She wore a solid white fur overcoat, stitched through with silver threading. A white fox stole was over her shoulders to provide extra warmth on the winter evening. She had left her hair long and free, the waves cascading down her back to her waist. Missandei had brushed it out so many times that it shone like spun silver. A crown of blue winter roses from the glass gardens rest atop her head. The three headed dragon chain glinted in the torchlight.

Davos stepped forward when Jorah and Daenerys reached them before the heart tree, after reminding Jon to just breathe. “Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”

Jorah cleared his throat, drawing the attention to his words. “Daenerys, of House Targaryen and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”

Jon stepped forward, all nervousness gone from him. He wore a new gambeson of grey leather with the cloak that Sansa had made for him before their victory at Winterfell. The direwolf gorget as always at his neck. He thought back to some of the vows he had taken as a brother of the Nights Watch. He remembered the words with such clarity. _I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory._ He had forsaken them all now, even though they no longer applied after his death, but the thought caused him to smile anyway.

He outstretched his hands towards Dany. “I, Jon of House Stark and King of the North. Who gives her?”

“Ser Jorah of Bear Island, an advisor to the Queen.” He took the Queen’s hands from his and placed them in Jon’s.

“Queen Daenerys, do you take this man?” Davos asked of his Queen, knowing already what the answer would be.

Daenerys squeezed Jon’s hand. “I take this man.”

The smile that graced the King in the North’s face was one of the happiest she had ever seen. He quickly took her into his arms, kissing her with a gentle sweetness to seal their union before the Old Goods.

“And so they be wed. I present to you all the Queen and King of the Seven Kingdoms”. Davos spoke out proudly, the lords and ladies in attendance bowed before their sovereigns.

Jon and Daenerys began to walk, hand in hand down the lantern lit pathway, those that had bowed began to rise upon their slow departure. The group of people gathered began to make their way to the great hall. The Stark siblings were first, followed by Davos and Jorah, Tyrion and Varys, and Missandei and Grey Worm. The other guests made their leave to join them after all the nobility had dispersed. 

The newly wed couple had taken a different route than their guests, determined to head back to the King’s Tower for some privacy before the feasting. It was then, crossing over into the courtyard that Jon noticed a group of new arrivals. It was small group, no more than fifteen men. They were all dressed in the same green that reflected on the banners that they held. The sigil emblazoned on the banners was one Jon had only seen before in his lessons from Maester Luwin and never in person. The banners were grey-green, with a large black lizard-lion in the middle. Howland Reed of Greywater Watch had arrived at Winterfell.


	13. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this might be the longest chapter yet, because it covers a lot of ground. I tried my hardest to try to convey the emotional weight of everything. Comments, feedback, and ideas are welcomed as always :)

Howland Reed had traveled to Winterfell as soon as the raven had been received announcing the marriage of Jon Snow, the King in the North, and Daenerys Targaryen, The rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. He had promised Eddard Stark that he would remain at Greywater Watch and not get involved in order to keep Jon safe, and he had intended to keep that promise until the raven arrived. All the Baratheon’s were gone, there was nothing to protect Jon from now. Eddard was long dead and no one else would be able to share the truth that had haunted him for two and twenty years.

He had requested a private audience and was not entirely shocked when he had been shown into the King’s solar and saw that it was as private as he had hoped. The crippled Stark boy was in his wheelchair. He had heard of Bran and the transformation he had undergone from his daughter Meera and her tales of their time beyond the wall. A young woman stood behind his wheelchair, and Howland knew this could only be Arya Stark. Jon sat in a great chair by the hearth, his wife Daenerys by his right side and closest to the fire for the warmth as she had changed into a simple cream colored gown. Sansa had been sent ahead to the feast and to oversee their guests while they met with the Lord of Greywater Watch.

“I had hoped to speak to you privately, your grace.” The older man had a soft voice that matched his slight frame.

“I assure you Lord Reed that any news you have to share is safe in this room. I trust my wife, and my siblings with my life.” Jon motioned for Howland to sit across from him.

He bowed his head in respect, taking the offered seat. He had to take a deep breath upon seeing the King up close. He looked so much like Lyanna, from the raven curls to the deep grey eyes. However, the high cheekbones and solemn look made him detect a resemblance of Rhaegar in his face. There would be no sugarcoating the truth now. “You look so much like her. Your mother.”

Jon sat upright in his seat, his hands clenching the arms of the chair. He swallowed back the emotions he felt stirring in his heart. His father had never talked about his mother no matter how hard he had tried to learn about her. He remembered the last time he saw his father. _The next time we meet, we will talk about your mother. I promise._ That moment never came and his father was gone. “You knew my mother?”

Arya had audibly gasped, while Bran showed no outward emotion. Daenerys, concerned for her husband, placed her left hand on top of his right to let him know that she was here for him and the revelations to come.

“I knew her very well. She saved my life when I was but a young man. It was at the Tourney of Harrenhall. It’s where she met your father.” Howland was looking at Jon, but his eyes weren’t focused. As if he was somewhere else, at the memory in his mind. “I was being attacked by boys much larger than myself. Your mother happened upon us. I’ll never forget it. She had a sword and laid into those boys like I’d never seen anyone do before. She took me back to the tent she shared with her siblings and bandaged me up.”

Jon could feel his heart begin to speed up upon hearing these things about the mother he never knew. And the fact she had siblings. He had another family out there somewhere. He wondered if they knew about him, or if they were even still alive. The Tourney at Harrenhall had been the time when all smiles died and was shortly before Robert’s rebellion began. “Please, continue my lord.”

“That night at the feast, everything changed. Prince Rhaegar was signing melancholy songs and making all the maidens cry, including your mother. Your uncle Benjen teased her about it with no mercy, and she upended an entire glass of wine atop his head.” The older man smiled at that memory. “But then King Aerys showed up when he was not expected. He was deep in his madness then, and would alternate from hysterical laughter to weeping and shaking with rage. That was the night he showed his ultimate disrespect to Tywin Lannister, and took his heir away from him and put him in the Kingsguard.”

Daenerys stiffened at the mention of her father and older brother. She knew that her father was not a good man, and of the reputation her brother had earned. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan had told her bits and pieces of the Tourney at Harrenhall, and of the continuing spiral of madness that overtook her father until his murder. Jon squeezed her hand that was resting in his own, providing what comfort he himself could give in this moment.

“The next day in the tourney, the three knights whose squires had beaten me, unseated their opponents and earned a place among the champions. But late in the afternoon, a mystery knight appeared in the lists. The knight was short and clad in ill-fitting armor, cobbled together from different suits. On the shield was painted a heart tree of the Old Gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face. The mystery knight dipped their lance before the king and rode to the end of the lists, where the five champions held their pavilions. You can guess the three that were challenged.”

Howland took a deep breath before continuing, the memories obviously emotional for him.

“All three knights fell before the knight. None were well-loved, so the common folk cheered the Knight of the Laughing Tree as the new champion was soon called. When the fallen foes sought to ransom their horses and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree's voice boomed through the helm and told them: Teach your squires honor. That shall be ransom enough. Once the defeated knights chastised their squires sharply, their horses and armor were returned. The king was furious. In his madness, he suspected a traitor in his midst. Perhaps even the newly-made Ser Jaime Lannister, whom he had already sent back to the Red Keep. That night, the king asked Lord Robert Baratheon to take to the lists and unmask the mystery knight, declaring him no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets, and the king took his seat, the Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. All they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree.”

Arya smiled to herself upon hearing the story, imagining the woman with the sword and the tourney where the squires had gotten what they so justly deserved. She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Bran speak for the first time since they had entered their brothers solar. “It is okay Lord Reed; he needs to know the truth.”

Jon glanced over to his brother, a questioning expression on his face and a sense of dread building deep in his stomach. He heard Howland Reed sigh deeply and turned back to face him.

“Jon…Lord Eddard Stark was not your father. As I have said your mother met your father at the tourney. He is the one that found her when he overheard the King’s plan. He helped her escape the woods and return to Harrenhall. She was the Knight of the Laughing Tree. I believe that is where they began to fall in love. He then crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty and everything changed. Your mother was Lyanna Stark, and your father was Rhaegar Targaryen. She wasn’t kidnapped, she left of her own free will to be with the man she loved. Benjen knew and helped her leave. She never had any intention of following through with the betrothal to Robert Baratheon. She loathed him. Lord Rickard would not listen to her pleas.”

Jon felt the nausea rolling in his stomach, and he instantly felt sick. His head was swimming in thoughts rushing to him faster than he could process. His heart was beating out of control now, and he took several deep breaths to try and steady himself. “This can’t be true.”

Bran looked upon his brother with sadness in his eyes. “It’s true, Jon. I’ve seen it, I’ve seen their marriage. I’ve seen your birth. Your parents loved each other very much, and wanted you so badly. Rhaegar was given special dispensation due to the doctrine of exceptionalism to take a second wife. Your father’s intentions were to overthrow his father and bring your mother and you back to Kings Landing when it was safe. You would have grown up with Princess Elia and your siblings, and your mother and father. And Daenerys. It’s why I told you that you two were destined together since your births.”

Howland looked to the younger Stark, knowing of the powers he possessed. “Rhaegar had been killed at the trident and your uncle and I went to find Lyanna. We found your mother at the Tower of Joy shortly after your birth. She was bleeding out, and near delirious. She would not be at peace until her brother had sworn to protect you. She knew what had happened to your siblings, and what Robert would do to you had he ever found out. We both promised to her that we would do everything in our power to keep you safe. So Eddard and I concocted the lie that would be your life. I would do it all again to ensure your survival, but you needed to know. Your mother…she named you before she died. Your name, Jon, your real name is Jaehaerys Targaryen.”

Daenerys felt the tears falling silently down her face and brought her fingers up to brush them away. Rhaegar was not the man that everyone thought him to be. He had not kidnapped and raped the she-wolf of Winterfell. Suddenly everything began to make sense to her. She had felt a connection with Jon that she had never felt with anyone before. The dragons had taken to him almost immediately. She thought back to the cliffs on Dragonstone and how Drogon had approached him, and he was not afraid. The dragons had known all along. She wasn’t alone anymore. Her brother had a living son, and they had found each other against all odds stacked against them. They were married and their child was nestled deep in her womb. “Blood of my blood…”

Jon sat in stunned silence, in total shock at the information being given to him to process. Suddenly he rose from the chair with such a force that it knocked backwards and began to pace. His whole entire life had been a lie. He had been so ashamed at being a bastard, and he never had been. Now he was ashamed for different reasons. How many thousands of people had to die because his parents ran away together? His whole existence had been paid for in the blood of thousands of innocents. He felt the bile begin to rise up in his throat.

Howland placed the satchel he had been carrying down on the floor in front of Daenerys. “There are letters in there that Rhaegar and Lyanna had exchanged, letters he had exchanged with a man called Maester Aemon, and a letter addressed from Rhaegar to his child. I’ve never read it. I assume he left it with Lyanna when he went off to war. I’ve saved these for him.”

Arya could hardly believe everything that had transpired. Jon was not truly her brother. Their father had never dishonored their mother. Instead he had allowed his honor to be besmirched because he loved his sister too much to see her son met the same fate as the Targaryen children. She ran up and hugged Jon tightly to stop his pacing. “Jon, you’re always still my brother. This doesn’t change that.”

Jon held tightly on to his sister. _No_ , he thought, _my cousin_. He let his tears fall freely now, the emotions rolling over his body like a storm at sea. He finally had all the answers he had wanted his entire life. He had been a wanted and loved child, and his mother had not abandoned him. She had been under his feet in the crypts this entire time. How many times had been down there and walked past her statute, not even paying any attention? This whole time…he knew where he had to go. He broke the embrace from his sister and strode across the solar, opening and then slamming the door behind him.


	14. The Crypts

Daenerys found Jon in front of the only statue of a woman in the crypts of Winterfell, knowing that this must be the final resting place of Lyanna Stark. Her husband was standing before it, staring at the likeness with tears streaming silently down his face. Her heart ached for him and the turmoil that he was going through. She walked slowly up to him, encircling her arms about his waist. She was relieved when he laid his arm o top of hers, holding tightly to her hand. They stayed wrapped up in each other in silence, staring at the statue before them.

“When I was a boy I always felt like I did not belong down here. As if the Kings of Old were mocking my baseborn blood and the fact I wasn’t a Stark. But that wasn’t true at all. My whole life was spent being the stain on honorable Lord Eddard Stark’s honor. I was hated by his wife, shamed for my very existence. I only joined the Nights Watch to try to find a semblance of his honor. He let me go willingly, knowing that once I took those vows I was no longer a threat. It has all been a lie. I should have listened to my Uncle Benjen when he tried to talk me out of it. He told me I didn’t know what I was giving up. It’s because he knew. He knew and he never said anything.” Jon’s voice was broken, filled with such sadness and anger that she had never heard from him before.

Her heart continued to break for him, knowing that there was nothing she could say or do to make it better for him in this moment. All she could do was offer her presence and her support, hoping that he knew she would see him through any struggle. “It is alright to be upset, my love. Your whole world has been turned upside down tonight. I know it’s hard, but I am grateful to Lord Stark and to Lord Reed. Without their lie, your life would have been over before it began. If anyone knew you were my brother’s son, they would have you killed in your crib. You would have suffered the same fate as Rhaenys and Aegon.”

Rage bubbled beneath his surface at the mention of the children who would have been his siblings. He knew she was right, but at this moment that didn’t matter. So much had been taken from him, and all he wanted was here all along. “All I ever wanted to know was who my mother was. Did she want me? Did she care? My father, no my _uncle_ , could have at least told me that much. Instead I grew up thinking that I was abandoned by her, taken in by his mercy. At least you’ve always known who you are Daenerys.”

“I may have had that, but at least you had stability. I am not saying what he did was entirely justified, but he made sure that you were safe, you had a roof over your head, and you never had to wonder where your next meal would come from. My whole life was spent running, always looking over my shoulder just because of my name and the family in which I was born. You had siblings, and a fathers love even if he wasn’t. I had nothing but abuse. We all think that life would be better being someone else, having things we haven’t had.” She held on tighter to him.

“No one can know. I will not be the walking reminder of the rebellion, even if Rhaegar didn’t kidnap and rape my mother. Families were destroyed, thousands died because they loved each other and ran away. My Targaryen grandfather burned my Stark grandfather and uncle alive over this lie. I will not be a threat to you, or to our child because of our blood.”

She frowned at his words, knowing that he was just speaking from a place of pain. “I will respect your wishes, but I do not want you to have to continue to live this lie. Your parents wanted you, they loved you, you have a name. A real name. You don’t have to wear the name of a bastard anymore. What threat could they lodge against us now? Our claims are united. We are married, we have an heir to look forward to. A family of our own. You are the blood of my blood.”

He scowled, so conflicted over the tumultuous emotions he was feeling. The turmoil was not over their shared blood. He didn’t care about that. “You know it is not that simple. There will always be plots and treason just based on the fact that I am man and you are a woman. If people knew the truth…Gods, Dany, I don’t want anything to happen to you. The both of you. I would be lost. I don’t even have the strength right now to be who they will want me to be.”

“You are one of the strongest men I’ve ever known. I know you will not be reconciled with what you’ve learned in just one evening. Please just know that you don’t have to choose a side, Jon. You can be a Stark and a Targaryen. It’s who you were meant to be. Who you were always meant to be.” She kissed him gently on the cheek, her lips tasting the salt of his tears.

“I wish I had the faith in myself that you do.” The confidence he had built back up after his resurrection was gone at this moment. Only the scared boy he had once been remained. He remembered sharing similar words with Theon Greyjoy, and they were not the balm to his heart he had hoped they would be.

“All I’ve ever had is faith, and I will not stop now.”

He let out an audible sob then, not afraid to show weakness in front of his wife. “No one can know.”

She held him in her arms, stroking his back the way he had done for her when she let her own emotions out about Viserion. “Before you make that decision, maybe you should read what Lord Reed has brought. He has letters written between your parents, and letters exchanged between Rhaegar and Maester Aemon. You’ve always spoken so highly of him to me. There is even a letter your father wrote to you before he went to fight at the Trident. At the very least, read that one. Maybe it will help soothe some of this pain.”

Jon knew she was right, he had to at least read what Howland Reed had kept all these years. If those letters had ever been found, it would have meant death for the Lord of Greywater Watch and yet he had kept them anyway. Maybe it would be helpful in his healing and the reconciliation of his true identity.

“Whatever happens, Jon, I just want you to know that I am here for you. Whatever you need, just ask it of me. We can get through this. Together.”

“Together.” He repeated He kissed his wife on the forehead and reluctantly withdrew from her embrace. Exhaustion washed over him, his body drained and his mind numb. He took one last look up at his mother’s statue. He wondered if it truly even looked like her, if the stone mason had carved a realistic image. Only Bran could give him the answer to that question. “I am going to bed. Please join me.”

Daenerys smiled sadly to him, wanting a moment alone in the crypts. “I will be right up.” She watched as he walked away, his head hung down. Once he was out of site, she looked to the beautiful statute. Slowly she removed the crown of blue winter roses she still wore from their wedding hours earlier. With a sorrowful look she placed the crown on the outstretched stone arm of Lyanna Stark in silent tribute.


	15. The Morning After

What should have been a night spent enjoying their new marriage was instead spent in fitful sleep. Jon had not let go of Daenerys most of the night, his arms wrapped around her as if he would let her go and she would disappear and all happiness he had found would go with her. Once he had finally found sleep it had seemed as if no time at all that light was beginning to filter through the bedchamber. He reached out for his wife, his hand finding nothing but an empty space beside him. In a panic he opened his eyes and sat upright, looking about the room.

Daenerys turned from the small table when she heard the sheets rustle. “Food has been brought up for us to break our fast before the war council. You finally seemed to be resting, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Jon rubbed the sleep from his eyes and was thankful they would have at least a few more moments to themselves before duty would draw them away. He stretched as he rose from the bed dismissing the rest of sleep from his body. He made his way over to his wife and kissed her gently upon the lips.

She returned his affection with tenderness, hoping that he was feeling better after resting. “I could get used to this.” She smiled up at him, enjoying the view of him just in breeches and nothing else.

He returned her smile with a small one of his own, a certain melancholy still in the air between them. He pulled a piece of bacon from the plates spread out before them and took one of the seats. She took the seat next to him, the smell of the eggs making her stomach turn on itself. She opted for the lightly buttered bread, and one of the honeyed peaches. She had brought the fruit North with them from the spoils of Highgarden that she had intercepted from the Lannister’s. She took some of the bacon and threw it in the direct of Ghost, sleeping peacefully still in front of the hearth. The smell roused the great white beast and he caught the piece of the bacon just before it went to hit the ground.

They ate in silence, just enjoying each other’s company but something kept nagging at Daenerys’ mind. It was one of the reasons why she couldn’t sleep well. She didn’t want to add more to what he was already dealing with, but after losing Viserion she had sworn she would not lose anymore of her children. “As you know, Rhaegal is without a rider. Dragons are most vulnerable without a rider. We are on the brink of a war last fought thousands of years. You once said that my dragons were one of our only hopes. Well his hope is you taking him for your mount.”

Jon sat there in stunned silence, not quite sure how to even respond. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Dany. You’ve been riding for years. We have less than a moons turn; I will not put him at risk just because I am inexperienced.”

“I could teach you, be in the sky with you. I unfortunately didn’t have anyone to guide me, Drogon was my guide. This is our best hope.” The urgency in her voice was something like he had never heard.

“I will consider it. I truly will. Can we just get through this council meeting please?” Exasperation was evident in his tone.

Daenerys had never known Jon to be overly short with her, and knew that he was still reeling from the prior night. She knew the risks she took in asking, and would ask again if she had to. Jon was the only person that Rhaegal would accept as his rider. She was sure of it. Even if she had to concede to putting on a smile and agreeing. “Of course, my love.”

They finished their breakfast before dressing for the day. Daenerys had chosen a gown of grey with black stitching, fur lined along the collar and at the end of the sleeves. As usual she wore her breeches and boots underneath, always ready for battle or for running if necessary. She wondered if she would ever outgrow that need, or if the feeling would persist the rest of her life. She sat at the vanity to braid her hair into one long, singular braid. She had not wanted to disturb what private time Missandei found with Grey Worm to ask for a hairstyle.

Jon dressed in simple black breeches and riding boots, a grey tunic and an even darker grey gambeson. He chose not to wear the Stark direwolf gorget, leaving it be on the chair where he had discarded it the night prior. He pulled his hair back in his usual knot before pulling on black boots.

Once readied for their day they walked arm in arm towards the council meeting. She had decided this morning to host it in the library and had informed Tyrion to notify the other members of the council as well as commanders from each of the forces. The great hall was just too formal and impersonal for a war council. They exited the King’s Tower and began to cross the courtyard. The courtyard was bustling with activity and Wildlings. It was then a blur of red hair and furs came bounding towards them.

“LITTLE CROW!” Tormund screamed out, about tackling the King with a gigantic hug that almost took him off his feet. “I was hoping to be here before your wedding. I hope you remembered what I taught you. Slick as a baby seal.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Jon smiled, the first real emotion she had seen on his face all day, not even acknowledging the second part of the comment.

It was then that the Wildling set his sights on her, picking her up and swinging her around. He would never forget how she had saved their lives beyond the wall and admired her more than he had ever admired any woman. “DRAGON QUEEN! How can one so little be so fierce.”

She giggled at his actions. It was so rare that someone would treat her in such an informal manner and be so animated about it.

“Tormund, be gentle. Put her down.” Jon looked exasperated at his friend, knowing that he couldn’t really control his actions but was worried for her well-being and that of their child nonetheless.

“She’s not some wilting flower, Little Crow. I think she can handle me. After all, you’ve seen that great beast she mounts. How she ever chose to mount you too, I have no idea.” He was definitely not one to censor his words, but he did as he was asked. “There you go King Crow. Your woman’s safe and sound. I am not going to be stealing her just yet.”

Daenerys continued to smile, amused at how exhilarating she found him and his actions. She was happy he had arrived, and the Wildlings with him. They needed all the manpower they could get, especially ones who had fought the Others before. “Why don’t you join us for the war council? I’m sure we would appreciate your input and experience.”

Tormund grinned wildly. “See King Crow? She wants me around.”

Jon just shook his head and laughed under his breath as they began to walk from the courtyard towards the library. Life was never dull around Tormund Giantsbane.


	16. The Council

A large map of Westeros was spread out upon one half the long table in the library of Winterfell, a map of Winterfell was laid out on the other. Daenerys and Jon stood in the middle of the table with easy access to both maps. Arya stood next to him, her hand resting confidently on her dagger. Bran sat in his wheelchair in quiet observation. Sansa stood towards the end of her siblings, her mouth set in a thin line with Brienne keeping guard just behind her. Ser Jorah stood next to Daenerys, Grey Worm and Missandei directly next to him.

Varys, hands tucked in his great sleeves, observed from the end of the Targaryen side of the table. Ser Davos stood at the edge of the Starks, his head cocked to the side as he looked the map of Westeros. Qhono was chosen to represent the Dothraki, and he stood next to some of the Stark generals on the opposite side. Tormund stood off to the side, near the window, disturbing the quiet by loudly eating a roasted chicken he had plucked from the kitchens.

Everyone turned as the door creaked open and Tyrion, Hand of the Queen, finally joined them. It was not like the Lord Hand to be late for anything, but he was not alone. Jaime Lannister trailed in behind his little brother, looking a little worse for wear and in roughshod clothing. He could have passed for any common man, instead of the Kingslayer. Daenerys glared at the taller man, before drifting the gaze down to Tyrion.

“You’re late.” Her voice was as cold as the winter day outside.

“My apologies your Grace, for my tardiness. I was headed directly here from my chamber when I saw my brother wandering around the courtyard.” He looked around sheepishly, knowing that the information he would have to share would not be welcomed to anyone here in this room.

Jaime sucked in a breath at seeing the Dragon Queen up close again. The first time he had seen her on the battlefield he had noticed the resemblance, but when he saw here again in the Dragon Pit it was is if Rhaella Targaryen had come again. This time was no different. She truly was the very image of her mother. Jaime had always had great respect for her, and what she had to endure as the wife of the Mad King. One of his greatest failures, aside from protecting Rhaegar’s wife and children, had been not helping her. Just another regret on a long list of things he was no trying to make right.

“I take it your forces, Kingslayer, are camped outside the gates?” It was Jon who spoke this time.

“My sister lied. She never had any intention of sending our forces North. She’s now contracted the Golden Company to help her hold King’s Landing.” Jaime scowled at the memory.

“Then why are you here?” Daenerys’ eyes flashed with the anger that she was barely keeping controlled.

“I made a promise to fight for the living. I intend to keep that promise, for whatever good it does me. I seem to recall how your King feels about promises.” Jaime countered.

Brienne stepped forward, looking at the Lannister man with a proud look about her face. “I will vouch for Ser Jaime, your Graces, if my word would mean anything to you.”

Sansa spoke up then, “I trust Lady Brienne with my life. If she will take responsibility for him, then he is welcomed in my home.”

Daenerys’ looked up in surprise at Brienne’s words, and then at Sansa. She knew that Lady Stark was a learned woman, and knew her history well. She would know about the Kingslayer and his history with her family. She knew Brienne to be an honorable woman, and did not expect this from her. For them to welcome the Kingslayer with open arms, after the continued betrayal of the Lannister’s, did nothing to temper her anger.

Jon put his hand on top of Daenerys’, knowing the difficult positions that this put all of them in. He knew her anger was justified, but petty squabbling would get them nowhere right now. He didn’t like the man either, but they could deal with that later if they all survived. “We need every man we can get, especially fighting men. If my sister and her sworn shield take responsibility for you, then that is on them.”

“He speaks true. He has come to fight for us.” Bran’s words were not spoken loudly but audible as he stared at Jaime Lannister, the look causing a shiver to run down the knight’s spine and his face to go pale. He knew he would have to answer to the young Stark lord at some point for his crimes.

Ser Davos cleared his throat, knowing that if someone didn’t divert attention back to the task at hand that they would get nothing accomplished. “Shall we begin?”

Daenerys took a deep breath, putting her anger aside and her regal mask back on. “With my Unsullied and Dothraki, the King’s forces, the forces from the Vale and Riverlands, and now one Lannister soldier, how many do we have against the Army of the Dead?”

It was Grey Worm who spoke this time, his common tongue heavily accented. “About 35,000 combined ñuha Dāria.”

“I have 3,000.” Tormund joined in.

The Queen’s heart sank. She had seen the Night King and his army, and they had at least a hundred thousand. And now a dragon. “38,000 soldiers and my dragons. That is all that stands between us and death. The Night King will be even more unstoppable now with Viserion. We have got to evacuate the women, children, and anyone who cannot fight.”

“I think that is a wise choice, your Grace.” Tyrion looked at the map, plotting of where they could send those that needed to evacuate. He pointed to a location. “The Eyrie. Lord Arryn is cousin to the Starks and is sworn to our cause. The castle is near impregnable.” 

“My fleet is still docked at White Harbor. We could send them south to Dragonstone. The dead cannot swim. Would they not be safer on an island?” The Queen asked.

Jon shrugged, “The dead cannot swim, but…”

“I will _not_ leave my home.” Sansa spoke out, interrupting her brother, her fists clenched at her sides. “Not again. Not after everything I’ve been through to get back here.” She looked to her siblings. “What we’ve been through.” She corrected herself.

“Don’t be stupid, Sansa. You can’t fight. You only know how to wield sewing needles, you’d only be getting in our way.” Arya rolled her eyes at her older sister.

Daenerys turned the tone of her voice softer, trying to appeal to the oldest Stark girl with kindness. “I understand your concerns, Lady Stark, but you are the Lady of Winterfell. The women and children will look to you for strength and guidance. I need you to be the one to set the example.”

The auburn haired young woman glared at the Queen. She had promised that no one would ever rule over her again. Not after what she’d suffered. “I _will not_ leave my home. Why can’t the women and children go into the crypts? It’s the safest place in Winterfell.”

“Because the Night King can raise corpses, Sansa. You’d all be slaughtered the moment the Night King raised his arms and brought every King of Winter out of their tomb.” Jon fought every instinct he had to also call her stupid like Arya had, but would not do that to her in front of everyone. He would respect her, even if she did not respect him.

The Queen sighed, turning her attention back to the map. She had other things to worry about than Sansa Stark at this moment. Let the girl have her moment of defiance.

“Aye, your Grace.” Ser Davos agreed. “I think the island would be a fine choice.”

“It’s too close to Kings Landing.” Jaime spoke up. “Cersei has contracted the Golden Company, as I’ve said. She tasked Euron Greyjoy with getting them to the capital from Essos. I have no doubt he’d be sailing right past the island and would take great joy in sacking it.”

“I do have to agree, my Queen, with my brother. The Greyjoy fleet outnumbers yours, and we know that Euron is ruthless. He would kill every single one of us he could get his hands on. He would not even think twice about killing women and children.” Tyrion reasoned.

Jon looked to the map, calculating the time it would take to get everyone to White Harbor and then to the Eyrie. It would be closer than Dragonstone. And the Kingslayer did make valid points. “The Eyrie then. It would be faster to get everyone there than to Dragonstone. It will also serve as a good retreat point for us and our forces. The Mountains of the Mood and Bloody Gate could give us an advantage, if it came to that.”

“That is sound plan, your Grace.” Ser Jorah looked to the King, and nodded his head in agreement.

“I think so as well, your Graces, but I’m no military commander. Just a smuggler.” Davos smiled, trying to break the tension that continued to build in the room.

“Send a raven to Lord Arryn informing him of our plan. We have less than a moon until the dead are at our gates. We must ready the women and children to leave immediately for White Harbor.” Daenerys looked to Tyrion, who nodded to his Queen and would see the task done. She turned back to the table. “You are all dismissed.”

Daenerys watched as they slowly filtered out of the library before walking over to Sansa. Jon gave her a questioning look, but she paid it no mind.

“Lady Stark, may we speak? Alone.”


	17. Lady Stark

Once Daenerys was sure that the two women were alone she walked over to a smaller table and took a seat. It was in front of one of the windows in the library, allowing her to look out at the fields and snow that extended beyond the castle. She put a pleasant smile on her face and gestured for Sansa to take the seat across from her. “Please sit, Lady Stark.”

Sansa gave the Queen a wary look before complying with the request. She sat with her back completely straight, smoothing out her black skirts from imaginary wrinkles. Her dress was austere, the neckline going all the way up her neck almost to her chin. A chained pendant started at her throat and the chain wrapped all the way to the leather cinched about her waist. The only soft looking thing about her was her thick auburn hair, flowing loose about her.

“I will speak plainly Sansa. I can’t help but feel that we are at odds with one another and I am not entirely sure why. I would hope that you would speak freely with me as well. We are good-sisters now, after all.”

Sansa cast her eyes downward, slipping on her well-practiced mask of being a lady and hiding behind courtesies. “No, your Grace. I’m sorry if I’ve given offense to you.”

Daenerys almost wanted to roll her eyes. “Forgive me, I was not given the upbringing I should have. Therefore, I did not have a Septa educating me on how to be the perfect lady. I will not apologize for not playing your games.”

“Games, your grace?” She looked at the Queen, her expression blank.

“Yes, your games. I don’t want pretty words or apologies. I just want an honest answer on what I’ve done to warrant your coldness and disrespect.” Daenerys stared back.

Sansa shifted her gaze to look out the window, trying her best to keep her mask from slipping. Being honest with her feelings was not something she was used to doing. After being in Kings Landing for so long, and then at the mercy of Ramsay Bolton, had taught her that you never revealed your true intention. _Why was the Dragon Queen so interested in her anyway?_ she thought, _expect to learn things about me to exploit any weaknesses._

Daenerys could see the conflict behind the girl’s blue eyes, despite how hard of an effort she was making at trying to hide her emotions. She sighed deeply and reached out her hands to lay on top of Sansa’s own. “I know you’ve suffered greatly at the hands of others, especially the ones who should have protected you. I’m not expecting us to be friends if that is what you so desire, but I will not tolerate being disrespected in front of my council and my people. Should you have a problem with me, I would hope you would bring that to my attention directly as I expect a sister would.”

Sansa turned her attention back to her good-sister, glaring. “You do not know what I have suffered to get back home, to get back to safety. I will not have that threatened again. You’ve already fractured my family after I’ve worked so hard to get our pack back together. I know my brother will help you take Kings Landing, and I’ll never set foot in that city again so I’ll never see my brother again. And now you’re trying to take my home away from me.”

Dany could feel her patience slipping but persisted. “I have heard of the horrors you’ve suffered Sansa, and I am truly sorry for them. You are not alone. I’ve been sold like a broodmare. I’ve been raped, beaten, chained. I’ve lost almost all of those that have been close to me, including my husband and my baby. The path to get where I am today has been filled with suffering.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I am not here to take your family away from you Sansa. Yes, Jon will rule with me in Kings Landing. That doesn’t mean you’ll never see him again. I promise we will visit Winterfell, which will remain your home. We are not taking it away from you, just asking that you see reason. The Night King has my dragon and I will not have more lives unnecessarily lost due to pride.”

“Yes, he does and that’s _your_ fault.” Sansa withdrew her hands from the Queens.

“You can judge me for that if you’d wish, Lady Stark, but if I had not gone beyond the wall then Jon would be dead. Then you would truly never see him again.” Daenerys’ voice was as cold as ice.

Sansa’s mask fell for a moment, shock washing over her face. A single tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. Soon more tears began to follow. “I’m sorry. I have not treated you as fairly as I should.”

Daenerys offered her a small, sad smile. “I am not asking for your apology. Jon has told me how you suffered under Joffrey and Cersei. I can understand why you would be apprehensive towards a new Queen. But I assure you, Sansa, I am nothing like them. You are my family now, and family means everything to me. I would not see you hurt, or harmed. All I am asking is you give me a chance. If not for my sake, for Jon. He loves all of you so much.”

The younger girl wiped her tears away, giving careful consideration to the Queen’s words. It was true that she had not been as kind as she should have been, and Daenerys had truly given her no reason to be. Sansa just didn’t know if she had enough room to open up to anyone again, especially if it would just get her heart broken again in the process. “My family also means everything to me, your Grace. I’m just ashamed it took me many years to see that.”

“I am relieved to hear you say that, Sansa. Truly.” Dany thought of the babe growing inside of her, hoping that Sansa meant what she said. “I am depending on you to set the example for the other women and for the children. You will be in charge of the evacuees, in my name, as Wardeness of the North. They will look to you for strength, and your bravery. You must be a mother to them and help guide them through this trying time.”

Sansa smiled the smallest of smiles, a hint of one that barely existed as she thought to a long ago memory. “My father used to say that being a lord is like being a father, except you have thousands of children and you worry about all of them. The farmers plowing the fields are yours to protect. The charwomen scrubbing the floors, yours to protect.”

“Lord Eddard was a wise man, and he was right. These women and children, and those that cannot fight, will be yours to oversee and protect. I need to know I can trust you with this task.” Dany looked at her expectantly.

“You can, your Grace. I won’t let you down.” She said firmly. She would do her duty, and maybe could even learn to care of Daenerys in the process.


	18. The Letter

_To my Visenya or Jaehaerys_

_Prophecy has decreed that you shall be our daughter, but your mother is sure that you are a son. Either way I shall be glad for you. I write this as I head into war and have to leave you behind before I will even get to meet you. If you are reading this, then I am gone from this world and I am sorry for what you will have to endure. Your mother is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met and I have no doubt she will protect you until her dying breath._

_Always know that you are loved, despite what you will hear of me. I have wanted nothing more but to hold you in my arms since your mother told me of your existence. I have loved you, and your mother with all of my heart. I know my actions have brought Westeros to war, and for that I apologize. However, I will not apologize for you. The Dragon must have three heads. Your bother, your sister, you. The three of you are the only hope the realm has to defeat the true enemy._

_Seek out Maester Aemon at the Wall. He will guide you where I could not._

_Your father, Rhaegar._

Jon read the parchment in his hands at least fifty times since he had opened it. He had saved this letter for last, and it tore at his heart. He rubbed his fingers across the delicate script writing, knowing that this would be the only connection he would ever have to the man who sired him. He had memorized the words by now, understanding that he had been destined for this battle before he was even born. Rhaegar Targaryen had believed in the threat beyond the wall and was preparing for it, all those years ago. Except his siblings, Rhaenys and Aegon were long dead. It was just him.

_And Dany, and the Dragons._ He reminded himself silently. They were all that was left of House Targaryen now, until they could defeat the Night King and his armies and see their child safely into the world.

He thought about his time at the wall, with Maester Aemon. He knew from reading the letters between his sire and the old Maester that they were close. Rhaegar trusted Aemon with everything, including apparently a dragon egg from Summerhall meant for Jon as well as the sword Dark Sister. Apparently Rhaegar had had them delivered to Castle Black under the care of Aemon. The last correspondence exchanged between the two men was assurances that the package was safe, and that the Maester would do anything he could for the children. That he would help them understand the threat beyond the wall, and the part they had to play in saving the world from death.

_But you, Lord Snow, you’ll be fighting their battles forever._ Alliser Thorne’s last words echoed in his head. Ser Alliser had hated Jon from the moment he had laid eyes on him. He had fought on the side of House Targaryen in the rebellion, and has chosen the Wall for the crime of fighting for the wrong side. Jon’s Stark blood had made him an easy target. _If only he knew._ Jon thought bitterly.

The sound of the door being unlatched from the solar drew him from his thoughts. He had been up here in their bed chamber for hours now, having departed from the library to head straight here when Daenerys had asked to speak to Sansa alone. A part of him pitied his cousin, for she had not yet seen the anger Dany could possess when provoked. He hoped she had seen reason, and that his wife had been able to talk some sense into her.

Ghost trotted into the room first, followed immediately by Daenerys. He was relieved when she didn’t look upset, or angry, and assumed that things had gone about as well as he had expected. She looked over to him, and to the vast amounts of parchment spread out all over their bed.

“You’ve read them all?” She said in wonder as she crossed the space over to him.

“Most of them. Mostly the ones between him and Aemon, and the one meant for me. I tried to read some of the letters between both my parents to one another and it just felt wrong.” He offered her the scroll in his hand as she stood before him.

She took it gently, reading it in silence to herself. Tears pricked at her eyes at seeing the words her brother had so lovingly left behind. “I hope they have given you some comfort.”

Jon looked up to his wife, sadness still so evident on his face. He pulled her close to him, wanting to feel her touch. “Somewhat. If anything, I just have more questions.”

Dany put the scroll down on the bed before turning her attention to her husband as he held on to her waist. She began to run her fingers through his raven curls, trying to comfort him. “Have you tried talking to Bran? Maybe he can use his gift to help you.”

He was silent for a moment. The thought had constantly been on his mind since the crypts. He just wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for the answers. Right now they needed to go to the Wall, and to retrieve what had been left behind for them. If it was even still there. The only way to know was to get to Aemon’s chambers. And Jon knew there was only one way that could happen in the time they had before the dead would be upon them. “Dany…I’ve been thinking about what you said. About Rhaegal, and him taking me for a rider.”

She felt relief wash over her, but then guilt. “Jon, I don’t want you to think I am forcing you to do this. If you’re not ready, I understand.”

“No, you were right. If learning to ride will make him safer, then I will be glad to do it. How long would it take us to fly to Castle Black?”

Dany furrowed her brows, pondering the question. “Queen Alysanne flew there for an afternoon when she was bored. I’d say maybe an hour, two at the most. Why? Aren’t the dead there?”

Jon considered her words. “No, based on last scout reports, they were headed for Last Hearth. Thankfully Lord Umber and his household arrived this morning, so they will find no tributes for their Army. I ask because there are things I need to recover from Castle Black, according to the letters between Rhaegar and Aemon and...”

“And the fastest way to get there is the dragons.” She finished for him.

“Would that long of a flight be feasible for a first time rider?” Fear was beginning to taint its way into his voice.

She laughed softly. “Oh my love, that isn’t a long flight at all. I think it would be perfect. We could leave on the morrow at first light, and hopefully be back at Winterfell by midday meal.”

“First light.” He nodded, agreeing to her proposal.

She bent down to kiss him then, their lips meeting in an embrace as gentle as the one he had on her hips.


	19. The Waterfall

The light of dawn had just begun to crest over the horizon when Jon and Daenerys arrived to the dragon’s nest. They were curled together in sleep among the sheep carcasses that had been their dinner. The sound of crunching snow, along with sensing their mother’s presence, roused them from their slumber. Drogon untangled himself from his brother, moving slowly to his mother before lowering his head for attention.

Daenerys smiled to her larger son, gently stroking his scales as he hummed in enjoyment. “Sȳz ñāqes (Good morning).”

Rhaegal was slower to stir, shaking his long neck to rid the last of sleep and stretched out. He moved closer to Jon, bumping his large head against his midsection.

“He wants you to pet him. He enjoys it when you rub behind his jaw.” She offered in support to her nervous looking husband.

Jon did as she suggested, and was encouraged by Rhaegal moving in closer to his touch. While he had been around the dragons many times, today was different as he would attempt to ride Rhaegal. He took a steadying breath, his nervousness threatening to overwhelm him.

“Iksi jāre syt iā kipagon, ñuha trēsi (We are going for a ride, my sons).” At her words, Drogon dropped his shoulder to allow his mother to climb up. Jon watched as she used the support of the dragon’s shoulder to hoist herself up to his back and settle herself.

“You make it look so easy.” He stopped rubbing Rhaegal and looked up to his wife, concern written upon his face. “I don’t know any Valyrian, how will he understand me?”

“If he accepts you, you will have a mental connection to him. Almost like you do with Ghost. He will be able to sense your feelings, or what direction you wish to go. I have that bond with Drogon. I promise I will teach you Valyrian. It is our mother tongue.”

He nodded at her words and looked to the green dragon in front of him. As if sensing Jon’s intention he dropped his shoulder down as Drogon had done. Jon gulped and awkwardly climbed upon the dragon’s back.

Dany gave him a bright smile, hoping to boost his confidence now that he was successfully on Rhaegal’s back. “Are you ready?”

“What do I hold on to?” His eyes were wide, as he began to wonder if he had made a grevious mistake.

She suppressed a giggle, her smile turning into more of a smirk. “Whatever you can, but generally their spikes are the safest.”

Jon leaned forward and grabbed a spike in each hand, his grip so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He could feel his heart racing, the rhythm audible in his ears.

“Sōvēs (Fly).” At the command of their mother both Dragons launched themselves into the sky.

Jon could feel the wind whipping at his face, his cloak blowing behind him. He held on tighter as they gained altitude, looking down as the ground got further and further away from them. He looked over to Daenerys, who was keeping pace with him. How natural she looked in the sky, atop Drogon. He could make out the smile on her face, and tried his best to smile back despite his fear.

In just a few moments they soared over Winterfell and he was thankful that it was still early enough in the morning that there was limited activity in the courtyard. He watched as the castle walls faded behind them as they passed over the camps. Unsullied and Dothraki were starting to begin their days, fires burning to cook breakfast.

It was then that he felt the tug on his mind, and the emotions from the great beast beneath him. He could feel excitement, and happiness from the dragon. He had apparently been waiting for a rider since he was big enough to have one, jealous of the bond his mother and brother shared.

_Move to the left_. He spoke to their connection, wanting to see if it worked. The words had barely filtered to the bond between them when Rhaegal did as he asked, flying further to the left and closer to Daenerys and Drogon. Jon smiled then, his confidence growing.

The feeling up in the sky was exhilarating once the fear wore off and the adrenaline kicked in. He looked around and saw that they were far from the keep and closer to the area he used to hunt with his uncle, Robb, and Theon. This was his opportunity to show Dany more of the true North, and it was just the two of them and the Dragons.

_Land near the waterfall._ Rhaegal purred underneath him, and dove downwards. The shock of the sudden movement caused Jon to lean forward until he was almost flush with the dragon.

Daenerys looked on in both confusion and pride at how well he was doing, even though she had no idea where he was going. She didn’t even have to say anything to Drogon as he began to follow the same course of his brother.

Landing was not near as nerve-wracking as taking off had been for Jon, and he was able to dismount with much less trouble than he had climbing on. Daenerys and Drogon landed a few feet away from him. She dismounted with such ease and grace and made her way over to them, a huge grin on her face.

“You did well!” The excitement in her voice was clear. She was happy to know that Rhaegal had officially accepted Jon as his rider, and that he would be safer in the wars to come. She was also overjoyed that she wouldn’t be lone in the skies anymore.

“Thank you. I am pretty sure that horses as a mode of transportation have now been completely ruined for me.” He smirked at her giggle, taking her by the hand and leading her around the bend in which they landed.

Daenerys gasped when she saw the waterfall against the snow. The sight of it was breathtaking, and was like something she had never seen before. She was amazed that the water was still running, despite the freezing winter temperatures. “It’s beautiful.”

Jon wrapped his arms around her from behind, enveloping her in his warmth and resting his hands upon her stomach. “I used to hunt here as a boy. Even then I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. We will have to come back when winter is gone, and you can see it without snow.”

“But the snow makes it so beautiful.” She leaned back into his embrace.

“Aye, it does. But it’s just as beautiful in the summer too.”

“We could stay here forever, just us. No one would ever find us.” The whimsical tone of her voice had a certain sense of melancholy.

“I promise this can always be our special place. Whenever we feel we need to get away from everything, we can come here.” He placed a kiss atop her hair.

They stood together with his arms holding her tightly, just enjoying the view and being in one another’s arms for several more moments. He could feel her shiver underneath her heavy winter coat, knowing that she was still not accustomed to the drastic temperatures of winter in the North.

“I don’t want you to get too cold. We should get going, you’ll be warmer on Drogon. We should be about halfway there.”

“Let’s go” Dany turned and smiled at him. He took her hand in his and so they walked hand in hand back to their dragons and towards their journey to Castle Black.


	20. Castle Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that my updates haven't become daily, life has been a little crazy lately. While I don't know if I can commit to once a day updates like I had been doing (my husband is having to have surgery here soon), I will definitely commit to updating at least every 3-4 days at the absolute latest. Thank you all so much for understanding, and as always your comments give me motivation <3

The dragons landed in the courtyard at Castle Black, snow dusting up all around them. Daenerys had seen the Wall at Eastwatch, but didn’t really take the time to appreciate the man made marvel due to the circumstances of being there. Castle Black was much larger than she had envisioned, but was completely devoid of any activity or signs of life. The eerie quiet, coupled with the intense cold, sent shivers down her body. She was thankful she had worn her warmest coat as the winter cold felt harsher this far north. 

“It’s so quiet.” Her soft voice broke the silence.

“Thankfully what was left of the Watch was able to evacuate. Per the last raven received, they should be at Winterfell any day now.”

She looked up at the great ice wall ahead of them, in awe of the size of it. It went as far as she could see, disappearing up into the clouds. The sound of dragon wings drew her from her thoughts, as she watched her sons take to the sky.

“They’re leaving us?” Jon looked up to them as they departed south of the Wall.

“Just going hunting. It was a short flight but they need to replenish their strength. They will be back soon” She began to walk closer to the keep.

Jon joined her, taking her hand. The anxiety he felt at being back in this place was palpable. The mutiny of his brothers would forever be etched on his body, the raw and red scars that littered his chest the painful reminders of his death. He had struggled with his resurrection, and the numb feeling he had upon returning to life. He had wanted to chase that feeling of nothingness that came with death, but now wanted to do everything he could to live. To win this far, to grow old with his wife. To see their child to adulthood and watch them become parents themselves. To make a new world with his Queen.

Daenerys looked up to her husband, concern etched upon her face as they entered the keep. She knew what had happened here. She would never forget the story that had spilled from his lips upon the boat. She was thankful that everyone involved was dead, for she surely would have burned them alive. “Are you okay?”

He squeezed her hand in response, silently reassuring her that he was alright. He pointed across the great hall they had entered, a dark staircase barely visible in the low lighting of the keep. “Maester Aemon’s quarters are just up those back stairs and down the hall to the left.” He made his way over to one of the tables, and a lantern that had been left behind. He pulled a fire striker from the pouch on his belt, quickly bringing fire to the lantern. Castle Black did not have much natural lighting and they would need the fire as they journeyed deeper into the keep.

Jon led the way, protectively standing in front of Dany as they made their way up the stairs and down the hallway to Aemon’s chambers. The door had been left open, but the room had been untouched from what he had remembered. All of Aemon’s things were still there, as if he would be coming back despite having been dead for years. His favorite books that Sam would read to him were still stacked on a table, parchment and quill scattered about on another. He went to looking about the room in search for what they had come for.

Daenerys walked around the room slowly as Jon searched through things, wanting to savor the moment of being in the very room that one of their last living relatives had called their own. She picked up the books on the table, brushing off the dust to read their titles. There was one was about legends of old Valyria, one was a history of Dragons in Westeros, and one was just titled Azor Ahai. The other covers were so worn that she could not decipher any titles on them. Respectfully she put them back, moving to the parchment. Most of the parchment were simple lists. Things that needed to be ordered for the watch, inventory lists, recipes using medicinal herbs. She was about to put them down when one caught her eye. It had her name written on the top.

_Daenerys_

_My grand niece_

_Where I not a blind, feeble, old man I would be at your side. I swore to your brother I would protect his children, and I failed. I fear I have failed you by growing too old and frail to help. You are alone and there is nothing I can do now. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing. I know my time in this world grows short. Mayhap this will reach you in time and you can fly Balerion come again to the Wall. I would love nothing more than to counsel you and know that you are well. I have things I need to give you, and only you. Rhaegar entrusted them with me, and now you will be the only one of us left. You need to have them._

_Your great uncle,_

_Aemon_

Tears were streaming down her face, the emotion threatening to overwhelm her completely. Aemon truly cared for her, he had wanted to see her. Had she known she would have flown to his side as soon as she would have received the news. Her heart sank when she realized that he wrote this himself, as the words were all slanted or haphazardly placed. She knew his blindness would have made it difficult to compose, and yet he had done so anyway. She regretted that she had never known him, and that he never got the chance to send this message.

Jon heard Dany sniff and turned to see her, and became alarmed at seeing the tears flowing so freely down her cheeks. He crossed the room in three steps, unsure at what could have distressed her so much. She said nothing, just held the parchment towards him with a shaky outstretched hand. He carefully took possession of it, reading it quickly. Sorrow filled his heart for his wife, and what all she had lost. “Oh, Dany. I am so sorry.”

He put the parchment back on the desk before pulling her into a tight embrace. He held her close as the emotion coursed through her body. He made soothing shhh sounds while rubbing her lower back in an attempt to comfort her. She took a deep, steadying breath to compose herself. “You don’t have to apologize. I find my tears come so easily these days. The babe makes me not myself.”

“It is okay to share your feelings with me, Dany. It doesn’t matter if it’s the babe or not. You never have to apologize for having emotions. I will not shame you for feelings things deeply. I am glad for it, because so many people close themselves off to feeling anything.” His words truly touched her. She remembered how cruelly Viserys would treat her when she cried, or was upset, and knew that her ability to hide things so well had come from those horrible childhood emotional abuses. 

She pulled herself reluctantly from his embrace, knowing that they were here for a reason. She knew that if she stayed like that much longer, she would never want to leave his arms. “We need to find whatever he was keeping for Rhaegar.”

Jon nodded in agreement, but didn’t know where else he could look that he hadn’t already. He had been through all the drawers and cabinets. The rafters above were open to the exposed wood of the roof, and should anything be hidden up there it would be easily visible. He went to the hearth, carefully expecting each brick to see if any gave way.

Daenerys took a step towards the bed when the floorboards audibly creaked underneath her boots. Jon looked back at the sound, an idea forming in his head. He abandoned his work on the bricks and made his way over to the floor underneath Dany. Feeling the wooden planks, he noticed that several were not sitting completely flush with the other boards and wiggled.

Jon grinned up at her, the expression lighting up his face. She smiled too, joining him on the floor as they began to pry up the wooden boards. One came up, then two, three, and finally four of the floorboards were dislodged from their position. He reached inside, pulling out the black wool and fur cloak that was inside. The cloak was wrapped several times around itself, hiding the contents within.

Very gently he began to unwrap the cloak, the adrenaline building in anticipation. After a few, agonizing moments he had finished and before them laid the very reason for their journey to Castle Black.

Dany gasped at seeing the slender Valyrian steel sword laying between them, and the dragon egg. The sword had a pommel that resembled flames of a fire, rubies encrusted on the hilt. The slender build of the blade brought recognition to her mind. She thought back to what Davos had been teaching her of the Targaryen history. “Is that…”

“Dark Sister.” Jon finished, picking up the sword and testing the weight in his hands. It was much lighter than Longclaw and shorter too. It had been Visenya Targaryen’s own sword, and now would become Dany’s. He offered it out to her, a look of pride in his eyes as she held it. “It will be the perfect blade for you. And we need all the Valyrian steel we can get.”

“I don’t know how to wield one, I’ve never been taught.” She continued to stare in awe at the magnificent blade, and how comfortable it felt in her hands.

“First rule, as I told Arya long ago, stick ‘em with the pointy end. She has become quite formidable with Needle, and she’s been begging to see the dragons. I’m sure she would be happy to offer you some lessons in exchange for a meeting with Drogon and Rhaegal.” His smirk caused her to laugh and the sound was welcome to his ears.

Jon picked up the dragon egg, astonished at the feeling of the weight it in his hands. The egg was bright white in color, swirled with scarlet. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. The letters he had read between Rhaegar and Aemon had mentioned that this egg had come from Summerhall and was meant for him.

Dany watched him as he admired the egg, and wondered if this one would hatch as hers had years before. She just hoped that it would not require the sacrifices that had brought her sons into the world. “It’s beautiful.”

“It truly is. I had no idea they would be.” He ran his fingers along the hardened scales. “I know one of the traditions in our family was to put an egg in the cradle of every newborn Targaryen. Now we can continue that tradition.”

She felt as if her heart would burst with happiness at hearing him not only acknowledge _their_ family, but of the traditions in which their ancestors had been known for. Dany smiled, the happiness that she felt was so plain on her face despite the tears that threatened to fall again. “I would like that very much.”


	21. Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long! I hope you enjoy <3

The dragons touched down on the far side of their nest, Winterfell a silhouette against the horizon in the distance. The return flight from Castle Black had been a lot less eventful, and they had returned shortly before mid-day. Jon had taken the time to just enjoy being upon Rhaegal’s back, despite his fears. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, and he still could not yet believe that he was a dragon rider.

Daenerys joined him at his side as they started the walk back to the castle. “I’m very proud of you. I know how scary being in the skies can be at first.”

“Fear is definitely one of the emotions I felt.” He attempted a smile, trying to bring some light hearted humor to just how scared he had truly been.

“It will pass, the more you ride. The more you become one with Rhaegal. We should do practice flights every day. That way you feel more comfortable when the time comes for war.” Her face was soft, but serious.

“Aye. We’ve flown together in the morning but I would like to do some night training. I fear that the dead will attack us at night. Try to catch us off guard as much as they can.”

“We can start tomorrow evening, because tonight I want you all to myself.” Daenerys smiled then, trying to erase the worry from her face and her mind.

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss as they entered the camps, the sound of clashing steel echoing into the afternoon. The Unsullied and Dothraki were training with the Free Folk and the rest of the Northern army. Men, and some women, of every different background had come together to learn new fighting skills or to simply train with those with a different style.

They were almost to the back gate of the Winterfell courtyard when Arya came bounding out.

“I saw you. Riding the green one. What was it like?” Her eyes were wide in a mixture of awe and shock.

Jon and Daenerys exchanged a careful look before he spoke. They had hoped they had avoided being seen by the majority of the keep by keeping at a further distance. “Did anyone else see?”

Arya rolled her eyes at his question. “No. I was at the tallest point of the broken tower. When both of you were gone, and the dragons too, I figured what had happened and waited to see for myself. That still doesn’t answer _my_ question.”

He couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at her persistence. She was definitely not one to ever have been easily dissuaded. “His name is Rhaegal, and it was an adventure.”

“I remember when we were children and we would pretend to be warriors. You always wanted to be Daeron, the Young Dragon. Now look. You really are a dragon King.” She kept her voice low so just the three of them could hear. It was when she got closer to him to whisper that she noticed the sword at his side. The sword in addition to Longclaw. She jerked her head back up quickly in recognition. “Is that?”

“It is.” Jon confirmed. He looked to Daenerys who nodded to him as he pulled the sword from his belt. “I was actually hoping you could help us.”

“Help you?” Arya wrinkled her brows together in confusion. Her brother and good-sister, as that is what they would always be to her, were the last people she would ever consider that needed help.

“Jon tells me that you are quite good with a sword. I would like to learn. My sons are fierce but they will not be able to protect me in every situation. I do not always want to rely on someone else to save me, I want to be able to protect myself.” Daenerys hopefully stated.

Arya looked proudly at the Dragon Queen, the happiness at being able to train with another woman was evident on her face. The joy quickly turned to concern when she remembered that her good-sister was with child. “I’d love to but the babe…I don’t want to hurt it.”

Daenerys felt gratitude at her concern. “The Maester has assured me that I am in perfect health and that as long as I am not having any problems that I can continue with physical activities. Just to take time to rest, and listen to my body. I promise Arya that I will not put you in a position where you would feel that you are hurting me. I just need to learn.”

The young woman nodded. “Meet me in the training yard in an hour. We will work on some basics. But you can’t wear that.” She gestured to the Dragon Queen’s great winter coat and all the many layers underneath it.

“I think I can find something suitable to wear.” Dany agreed.

“Thank you Arya. Truly.” Jon’s voice was filled with sincerity as they all began to walk together through the back gate.

“I still want to meet the dragons.” Arya poked at her brother, her finger hitting the leather of his gambeson.

“I will take you after our training session. They should be full of sheep and content by that point.” Daenerys smiled so that it lit up her entire face. She would relish the opportunity to get to know her more.

The courtyard was bristling with activity as everyone in the keep, and the soldiers who were not training, worked to get everything together to depart for those departing for the Eyrie. Crates were stacked up along the walls of the inner bailey, trunks were being loaded up into wagons, and Sansa was taking inventory of the food stores. Jon and Arya remained in conversation a few paces behind Dany.

Tyrion was next to Sansa and they were deep in conversation and did not hear the Queen approach with the volume of activity in the courtyard. Daenerys knew that Varys must be lurking about somewhere but had not directly spotted him amongst the crowd. Things between the Lady of Winterfell and the Dragon Queen had been noticeably improved since their talk in the castle library. The easing tension had been welcome to all, especially to the Queen’s small council.

“I trust you have everything you need for your journey, Lady Stark?” Daenerys slipped her regal mask back into place as she made her way over to her Hand and her sister by law.

“Your Grace.” The Lady of Winterfell turned to face her, the conversation with Tyrion at a pause. “My apologies for not acknowledging you sooner.”

“No need, Lady Stark. I know the burden of responsibility has been heavy upon your shoulders.” Dany smiled tightly before looking back for her husband. She saw that Jon was now surrounded by Tormund and a few of the other Wildling men, and that Arya was nowhere in sight. She turned her attention back to Sansa. “Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Sansa bowed her head in respect. “Thank you, your Grace. We will be ready to depart no later than the morning after the morrow.”

Dany kept the smile on her face, knowing that these small pleasantries would probably be the closest thing that she ever got to really knowing Sansa Stark. She turned to her Hand, a more genuine smile beginning to form on her face. “My Lord Hand, would you please escort me to the midday meal? My husband is preoccupied.”

Tyrion rose an eyebrow, looking past his Queen towards the King. The great big red headed wilding was making an obscene gesture with his hands, drawing a raucous roar of laughter from the small crowd gathered around them. The King did nothing but smile and shake his head. “Of course, your Grace.”

They walked in silence for a few moments in the courtyard as they made their way towards the great hall. Daenerys had wrestled with the idea of Tyrion staying at Winterfell with them to continue to help plan for the upcoming battle, or should he seek the refuge and safety that the South would have to offer. Now she knew what her decision must be.

“Tyrion?” She stopped walking and turned to face him more as a friend than as a Queen.

He looked up at her, confusion painting his features at her being so informal whilst they were still so out in the open. Even if they had ventured towards a quieter part of the courtyard. “Your Grace?”

She sighed deeply, her posture relaxing just a bit from the tension she felt in her shoulders. “I think it best that you head south with the women and children. I know Varys is already going.”

A look of hurt flashed in his eyes but was gone in an instant. “My place is at your side, your Grace. To offer my counsel and…”

“Your counsel will mean nothing to me if you are dead.” Dany interrupted him, her voice wavering slightly before she recovered the strength of it. “I know you have fought bravely in battle before, but this is different. These are not ordinary soldiers. And you mean too much to me to see you be butchered. I know I may not always listen to your advice, but I need you by my side when we take the Iron Throne.”

The catch in her voice caught Tyrion off guard. He then made the bold decision to take her hand, trying to offer some comfort for whatever emotional turmoil she might be going through. He could see the hint of tears unshed, and his concern mounted. While the Queen had never been a cold woman, she usually was not so forthcoming with her feelings. Especially not in a public setting. It was then that realization dawned on him. She had not been eating, and when she did it was not a lot. She had been refusing wine. And now these emotions. “You’re pregnant.”


	22. Counsel

Instead of taking their meal in the great hall with the rest of the keep Tyrion had food sent up to Daenerys’ chambers. They sat across from one another at the small table in the solar, a fire roaring in the hearth to provide more warmth than the hot springs provided. The sliced apples, cheeses, dried meats, and torn bread was mostly forgotten between them upon the table.

“This changes everything, your Grace. You cannot stay here. You must come south with us.” Tyrion advised, the worry he felt for her bleeding into his voice.

“I will not sit aside and do nothing. I know the risks, and I will be the Queen my people need me to be.” She took a sip of the mint tea in her mug, trying to keep her anger in check at her decisions being questioned.

“You cannot be Queen if you are dead. Everything will be lost. We have had this conversation before.”

“Yes, you cautioned me to do nothing and it cost me most of my allies.” The loss of Olenna Tyrell and Ellaria Sand, along with the Sand Snakes, still was a touchy subject between them.

“And you did not listen to my counsel and went ahead anyway, and look what it cost you.” He tried to keep his voice soft, knowing full well how difficult this was for her.

The flash of anger that filled her violet eyes was not fleeting. The loss of Viserion, and his subsequent fate at the hands of the Night King was something she blamed herself for daily. She did not need any reminders of her failure of a mother. “I am very well aware, Lord Tyrion, of the consequences of my actions.”

“Then all the more reason to get yourself to safety. I know how you feel about the dragons, and that they are your children. But you have an _actual_ child to think about now. Your heir and the future of house Targaryen. If you die, that future will never been seen to fruition.”

“If I do not fight then all of humanity is lost and this child should never be born. There is more at stake than my life and the future of my house. If the Night King prevails we will all be doomed. My dragons are needed to help win this war, and I will not abandon my people to selfishly seek my own protection.” Her voice was as cold as the ice outside.

Tyrion sighed, growing more a resigned to the fact that his counsel would not be heeded. “And what does the King think of this?”

Daenerys did not think her anger could grow any further with his words until it did. “He respects my decision. He may not agree with it, but he does respect it. Need I remind you that I am a Queen in my own right and do not need my _Lord Husband’s_ permission to do what is right.”

“Then how can you expect me to leave you knowing that you will not listen to your advisors?” The exasperation in his voice was growing more evident. 

“I do listen when the counsel given is in the best interest of the realm. This advice is not; it is only in the best interest of myself. A Queen does not belong to herself, but to her people. And I will see my people safe, even if it costs me my life.” The steel in her voice made it apparent that the conversation was over.

“Then with your leave, your Grace, I will pack for my journey south.” He rose from the chair when she nodded her consent. A certain sadness passed between them as he laid his hand atop her own. “Please know that I only say what I do because I care for you, and want the best for you. And that includes keeping you safe.”

Daenerys said nothing to him then, exhausted already from events of the day and now their verbal sparring. Tyrion attempted a smile to ease the tension but the sadness of the gesture overwhelmed any authenticity it could have had as he departed her chambers.

Once she found herself completely alone she closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath to center herself. Her Hand’s words were not without merit, and she knew that he spoke the truth when he had told her that he only wanted the best for her. That still would not change her mind and what she knew would be the right thing to do. She was no coward, and would not back down from the fight now. No matter what it may cost.

She enjoyed a few more moments of the silence with her eyes closed before she felt calm enough. She reached to the forgotten plate on the table and devoured a few apple slices. After she was satisfied with the fruit, she put a few of the hard cheese slices on the bread before washing it down with the mint tea. Once she had her fill of the food she realized just how exhausted she truly was.

Dany rose from her chair, unbuttoning the hidden buttons to her riding coat as she made her way from the solar to the bedchamber. She discarded it upon a chair and proceeded to strip down and out of all her clothing. Finding her sleeping gown still upon the bed, she slid it over her head and let it fall over her body until the fine lace hit the floor. It was then she crawled into the bed, sinking down into the soft feather mattress. It was not long before sleep claimed her, and she welcomed the dreamless peace that washed over her.

She was not ready to give the comfort of sleep up when she felt the gentle shake of small hands upon her, and a soft voice whispering her name. Slowly her violet eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the low light of the bedchamber and the surroundings. Missandei was sitting next to her on the bed, and gave a soft smile to her friend as Dany wiped the sleep away from her eyes.

“How long have I been asleep?” She yawned then, the last of sleep reluctantly leaving her.

“About an hour and a half. The Lady Arya had been asking for you and Lord Tyrion said you had never left your chambers. I grew concerned and came to make sure you were alright and that nothing had happened.” Her almond shaped, brown eyes betrayed the concern she so deeply felt for her friend.

“I am sorry for worrying you so. I am just so tired.” Dany sat up so that she was right next to Missandei.

“That is to be expected your Grace, and is perfectly normal in early pregnancy. Do not apologize for taking care of yourself, and your child.”

Dany chewed at her lower lip in nervous anxiety at the mention of her baby. “Am I doing the right thing Missandei?”

She furrowed her brows at the Queen’s question, not entirely sure what she meant. “I don’t understand. What thing?”

“Tyrion believes I should go south with the women and children, especially because of the baby. Jon had expressed the same concern to me before but respects what I must do. I need to stay and fight for my people.”

Missandei frowned, not wanting to see her close friend and Queen in harm but knew that she would not sit out from this fight. “I feel you must do what your heart is telling you, Daenerys. No one can make that decision for you. I understand their concern, as I fear for your safety as well. But you would not be the Queen I know if you were not willing to do what was necessary.”

Tears sprang up in Daenerys’ eyes. Missandei had been the closest female friend she had ever had. While she had had handmaidens and Dothraki women, the bond between these two women was unlike anything she had ever experienced. And now that the end of the world was potential among them, it was too much to think on. What if she never saw this gentle woman again? “I am going to miss you.”

The emotion made the Queen’s voice crack and the unspoken love between them prompted Missandei to draw her friend into an embrace. “We _will_ see each other again when this is over. I have faith in you, my Queen. You just need to have more in yourself.”


	23. Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am SO sorry that this chapter has taken so long. Life has truly been crazy over the past weeks. Husband has recovered from surgery but then we all went back into the office at work. I will try to do much better about updating.   
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I always enjoy it <3

Arya Stark had dreamed of dragons from the moment that Old Nan had told her stories of them. She was further enchanted with the lessons Maester Luwin would teach her of the great beasts, and the stories of those that rode them. Now here she was, face to face, with the only two dragons in the whole world. And their mother was her good-sister. She watched as Daenerys approached them in their nest and instantly the dragons greeted her with low rumbling noises and the larger of the two brushed up against her hand. For once she was in complete awe and utterly speechless. They were so much larger up close than Arya had realized, and to see how gentle they were with their mother was astounding.

Daenerys removed her gloves when Drogon nuzzled up to her, wanting to feel the warmth of her son underneath her fingertips. She was still flushed from the first lesson with Arya, and was sure she looked a complete mess. The training would be harder on her than she thought, as physical fighting was apparently not a natural talent that she possessed. However, she would not give up. They didn’t have much time left, and she would practice as much as possible. Arya had been a patient, and capable teacher, and Dany was truly grateful for her.

“This is Drogon.” Dany continued to stroke his large head, as the great green dragon joined in to get her attention. She used her other hand to rub the scales right below his jaw. “And this is Rhaegal.”

As she moved closer to join Daenerys and the Dragons, Drogon outstretched his wings to the fullest capacity of his wingspan and drew to a fuller height. The two women were completely dwarfed in his size. For the first time in a long time, Arya felt fear. The shock of the feeling stopped her in her tracks, hesitant to move any closer to the dragons before her.

“Ñāqa ñuha tresy. Issa lentor (Easy my son. She is family)” Dany spoke softly in Valyrian to her largest son. Slowly Drogon withdrew his wings closer towards his body and settled back to the ground. She then gestured for Arya to come closer.

Arya was awed once more at seeing how the dragon listened. Finding her courage once more she approached Daenerys and the great beasts. Rhaegal approached her first with an almost childlike curiosity gleaming in his reptilian eyes. She had to steady her hands to keep them from shaking as she brought a hand up to stroke the same scales his mother had previously. She was rewarded with a sound that almost sounded like a cat purring underneath her fingers.

Dany smiled at the sight before her. “They won’t harm you. I promise.”

Arya returned the smile, the confidence returning to her rather quickly. “They are magnificent. How do you get them to obey?”

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” She replied. “A dragon is not a slave. They do what they will, but the bond between a rider and their mount is special. And a bond between a mother and her children is even stronger. I like to think they respect that bond.”

Rhaegal bumped Arya’s hand to get her to resume her petting his scales as she had stopped to listen to her good-sister. She couldn’t help but giggle at the action. “Will Jon have that type of bond with them?”

“I truly hope for that. Especially with Rhaegal, who is his mount now. A dragon is safer with a rider. And he has not been the same since Viserion died. They were inseparable.” Sadness creeped into Dany’s voice despite her best efforts to remain composed. She was sincere in her hope that the bond between a rider and their dragon would keep not only Rhaegal safe, but Jon as well.

Arya frowned, not wanting to cause any grief towards Daenerys. It was a new feeling for the younger woman, to have a sister that she could not only get along with but respect. She would always have sisterly love for Sansa but the trauma of her life experiences had changed her into a person that she wasn’t quite sure she could respect. Especially after the debacle with Littlefinger. While she knew that life had changed her as well, she still had love for her family and would not let anything change that.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Arya knew it was a stupid question before she even breathed it aloud. After all she had seen how the Dragon Queen looked at her brother and how they acted together. Still so many people had hurt her pack and she just needed the reassurance after so many years of strife. And Daenerys truly made her brother happy. She had never seen him the way she had of late.

“I do.” Dany turned her attention from Drogon to look at the younger Stark sister, with nothing but sincerity in her eyes. “The love I have for your brother is unlike any I have felt before. I know that it may seem sudden to so many, but there is a connection there that cannot be explained other than by fate.”

“He deserves to be happy, after everything he’s been through. So do you. I’ve heard of what you went through in Essos.” Arya swallowed hard, all of the years of running flooding back into her memories. She and Daenerys weren’t so different after all.

“We all deserve happiness, and yes that includes you. We both know what it is like to be on the run just based on who we are. Me as a Targaryen, you as a Stark after what happened to your father. It is my greatest wish that after this war, and the war to come, that we all find peace.” Dany smiled.

“I don’t even know what I would do with peace, to be honest. I’ve been fighting for so long…” Arya trailed off. She had never really given much thought to what would come after. There was always another battle, another war, another fight within herself. Could peace even exist for someone like her? She couldn’t wait to find out.


	24. The Feast

The great hall of Winterfell was bursting with activity and the chatter of voices as they all feasted together for the last evening before the women, children, and those that could not fight in the war to come would depart the North for the Eyrie. The mood was light and jovial, a welcome change to the somberness that had enveloped the entire keep as a winter storm had delayed the leaving party for the past week. Many knew that this may be the last time that they ever saw each other again. 

Jon sat at the head of the great table, Daenerys immediately to his right. Sansa sat to the left in the place of honor as the lady of Winterfell, while Arya sat reluctantly next to her. If the younger Stark sister had had her way, she would have been directly next to her brother and good-sister. Bran had opted not to come to the feast, instead wanting to spend his evening in the Godswood in-tuned to the heart tree. Tyrion and Varys sat next to one another on the other side of Daenerys, Missandei and Grey Worm seated together directly next to the two men.

Various other tables throughout the great hall held all the Lords and Ladies assembled as well as groups of the Free Folk, Unsullied, and Dothraki. Tonight they would all truly be one people, united and enjoying themselves. 

Dany glanced over to see Missandei and Grey Worm talking in hushed whispers as the young woman smiled coyly and blushed to her lover. She couldn’t help but smile at the site of the two, trying to push away the fear the gripped her heart. She knew Grey Worm would be fighting in the battle to come, while Missandei sought refuge in the south. Dany knew she would never forgive herself if something happened to him, before their love could truly be realized and blossom. 

She pushed the thoughts away, determined to not think on it. She couldn’t dwell on the bad, not tonight anyway. Dany moved the food around on her plate with a fork. The very smell of the meat on her plate made her stomach twirl and bile to rise in her throat. It took everything she had to steady herself, bringing her mug of mint tea to her lips to take a generous sip. She could not betray their secret, and she could not afford to show weakness. Not to these Northerners who still distrusted her, and especially not to her Dothraki. 

Jon broke from his conversation with his sisters to look at his wife, frowning in the realization that she had not touched a bite. It took every effort for him to not let the concern for her color his features. He had always assumed that expecting women were mostly sick in the mornings, as that is what he had remembered from Lady Catelyn. However the opposite had been true for Daenerys. The evenings had been the worst for her, and almost every night the past week they had to sup in their chambers, as she would almost always end up emptying the entire contents of her stomach into a chamber pot. 

Sensing his gaze on her, she flashed him a quick and loving smile, as if to urge him not to worry. She forced herself a bite to show that she was alright, and then another. The smell again of the braised meat did not agree with her, so she moved on to the roasted potatoes. 

He lent closer to her, his breath warm and welcoming to her neck. “You can always retire for the evening. I will join you in bed soon.” 

Dany shook her head. “No, I’m alright. We can retire together when the feast is over. We both need to be here for our people.” As bad as she felt, she would not leave She was the Queen, and knew that leaving as the feast was just beginning would make it appear that she could not stand the company of the North. Despite all the progress she had made since their arrival, and especially since their wedding. She knew that there were several still who questioned her motives, and herself. 

Their whispering closeness was interrupted when a serving girl brought another mug of even more strongly brewed mint tea to the Queen. Daenerys looked over to Missandei, finding her most trusted friend smiling to her knowingly. She was thankful for her in that moment, for knowing exactly what she needed and returned the smile gladly with a small bow of her head. 

Sansa broke from the conversation she had resumed with Arya after Jon had turned his attention to Daenerys to sniff at the strong smell wafting around the great table. It was stronger than the platters of food placed before them. She looked over the servant girl and watched as she placed the mug before the Queen. The mint smell was overpowering, leading her to internally question if the Queen was ill. After all, they had not dined together despite her invitations to her new good-sister. She knew that they had started off with fairly rocky footing, but had hoped to remedy that before their departure. Especially after seeing how much happiness she had brought to her brother who had known nothing but misery. 

“You must really enjoy mint, your Grace. That brew is quite strong.” The red head stated in a jesting manor. 

Daenerys returned the statement with a tight smile. “Indeed, I do. I have ever since my time in Essos. It is a calming for me.” 

“I can’t say that I share that taste with you.” Sansa moved to continue to speak but was swiftly cut off by Lady Mormont. 

“Does our Northern cuisine not suit your delicate palate, your Grace?” Lyanna Mormont, Lady of Bear Island, had been mostly uncharacteristically silent when it had come to the Dragon Queen but had been intently listening to the conversation from her seat. 

Dany turned her attention away from Sansa to the young woman sitting at the head of the table directly in front of theirs. While Jon had talked about the formidable little lady of Bear Island, she had never had any real interaction with her. She knew that Ser Jorah, Lady Lyanna’s disgraced cousin, had tried to seek her out but she had refused to grant an audience with him. “Of course not, my lady. As I was sharing with my good-sister, it is a comfort for me.” 

“Are you so uncomfortable with us then, your Grace? Your own subjects that you wish to rule?” Lyanna arched a brow in the direction of the monarch, not backing down. 

“Not at all, my lady. I have found myself quite at home here at Winterfell, among my new good-family and the hospitality that the North has had to offer me.” Daenerys knew that it wasn’t entirely true, but had enough regality in her to not show any difference from her statement. She flashed a smile to the Lady of Bear Island. “Sometimes we just long for a familiar taste.” 

Lady Mormont gave the Queen a strange look and moved to speak again when Tormund spoke up loudly, his voice booming into an echo within the hall. “Aye, we have a drink also.” He nodded to the Freefolk gathered at his table. “Sour goat’s milk. Better than anything you will be drinking this side of the wall, Dragon Queen.” 

The very thought of the beverage made Dany’s stomach completely flip. She took a sip of the mint tea and a moment to compose herself before smiling brightly to the Wilding. “I will have to take you up on that offer, Tormund, when the battle is won. A good victory drink.” 

The response seemed to amuse the warrior, and the Freefolk with him. He laughed deeply, an expression that was soon followed by others in the hall. “I will hold you to that, Dragon Queen.” 

“I would not expect any less, Tormund Giantsbane.” 

Jon leaned in to her, whispering. “You know you will live to regret that decision. I’ve never tasted anything so putrid in my life.” 

“I’ve eaten an entire horse’s heart, my love. I am sure I can handle some goat’s milk.” Her violet eyes twinkled with levity, causing her husband to just shake his head at her tenacity. 

The royal couple went back to their meals, enjoying the laughter and conversation around them. The last calm before the storm. 


End file.
